


Tell Me Something True (I don't want nobody but you)

by Lecavayay, verbaeghe



Series: Nowhere, Oklahoma [4]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple, Syracuse Crunch, Tampa Bay Lightning, emphasis on the idiots, gratuitous cameos, linear narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 35,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lecavayay/pseuds/Lecavayay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbaeghe/pseuds/verbaeghe
Summary: People from Nowhere don’t fall in love with other people from Nowhere. Not anymore.At least, that's what Carter believes.





	1. Now - Carter

**Author's Note:**

> It's us again! Back with some idiots living in a small town named Nowhere. This does pick up directly from the previous story (In a Sky Full of Stars) and of course, we'd love if you went back to read the previous stories but that's quite a lot of words so we understand just diving in to this one. Which, uh, is also quite a lot of words. 
> 
> We'll be posting 2 chapters a week (a "now" and a "then") until it's all posted. So sit back, relax, and enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To note: Connor, who is in a long-term relationship at the time, kisses a person he is not in a relationship with. With purpose and vigor. Just as a heads up

Carter isn’t sure what he expected to walk into, but it was not Slater and Braydon getting engaged.

It’s easy to be pulled into their joy, Slater waving his ring around so everyone can get a good look at the solid silver band. Carter smiles and gives the pair of them a couple slaps on the back, offers to buy them both a drink later. He can be happy for them, for Slater. He can.

On the other side of the bar, Connor is heading for a table with a tray full of piss yellow shots and that happiness Carter was trying to feel settles into something more familiar. Something decidedly less happy.

He does a quick count of heads and sighs. That’s everyone, then. All of them paired up and in love. God, he never thought he’d be jealous of _Jake_. He steels himself though and, taking a deep breath, he weaves his way to Connor.

“Couldn’t leave one for me?”

“Bro!” Connor shouts, rounding the table to give Carter a hug. “I’ll do a shot with you, lets go. Bray’s back in town, he’s bartending now...crazy, right?”

Carter misses the heat of him immediately, wishing he could have lingered in his arms just a bit. It’s a bad habit he’s never been able to shake, almost as bad as drinking when he feels like trash, but he dutifully follows Connor to the bar and plasters on a big smile.

“What d’you want?” Connor asks. His cheeks are already a little pink and Carter wants to brush a thumb against them to feel the heat.

“Whiskey’s fine.”

Connor orders two shots of something way out of Carter’s price range, something that should probably be sipped and savored. He throws it back before Connor’s even signed the receipt.

“Whoa there. You doin’ alright?”

The liquor is warm in his chest and the miserable part of him wants another. “I’m good. Let’s grab a seat.”

Yanni’s American Idol audition is terrible in the way all beautiful, romantic things are. He’s got the voice of an angel and Carter can tell he’s never going to let Jake go, that Jake is it for him. And all he had to do was speed through town. Another fucking Happy Nowhere Coincidence.

Carter grits his teeth against the urge to make a scene, wraps his fingers around the edge of his chair to stop himself from standing up and just walking away.

Some of the guys are throwing balled up napkins at Jake and Yanni, lamenting the new level of romance Yanni’s created. Carter catches Anna heading for their table and that’s the final straw. His heart can’t take it.

“I’m going to the bar,” he says, standing.

Bray’s wiping out some glasses and he smiles when he sees Carter coming. “What can I get you?”

“What’s the nastiest drink you know how to make?”

“Uh.” He sets down the glass he’s drying. “Probably an Ace, but--.”

“I’ll take two.”

Bray frowns, his customer service going out the window. “Are you sure? I don’t really want to crack eggs.”

“You want a fifty dollar tip?” Carter asks, slipping the bill from his wallet. It’s half of what he made today out at old Reid’s farm, but he’s pissed off and feeling reckless.

Bray eyes it, squeezing his brows together. “Do you really have an extr--.”

“Y’want it or not?” Carter snaps.

Bray sighs, face falling completely flat as pulls out a basket of eggs. He keeps narrowed eyes on Carter as he cracks one, deftly separating the white into his cocktail shaker and dropping the yolk into a spare glass. “I should make you eat that.”

Carter pushes the fifty closer. 

He takes his time walking back to where Jake and Yanni are, careful not to spill any of the foamy pink drinks in his hands. He’s pretty sure Bray put them in the world’s most delicate glasses just to make it difficult. Which, fair. Carter deserves that.

Across the way, Jake leans in close to Yanni, no doubt to whisper something heartfelt in his ear. Carter stops. He should let them enjoy this moment. He _should._

But everyone knows he’s a dick when he’s drunk.

So he puts on an act, stumbling carefully but dramatically as he finishes crossing the room. “Drinks for Nowhere’s most famous lovers!” He enjoys the way they jump when he plunks the two grossly pink drinks in front of them. He sneers a bit when he adds, “You really hit it out of the ballpark on the first try, eh Dotch?”

Twist the knife.

“Uh…” Jake’s cheeks go red, embarrassed. He wishes the sight bothered him.  
  
“ _Please_ tell me he’s a terrible kisser,” he continues, turning to Yanni. “I’ve had a bet on this for years.”  
  
“A bet?”  
  
“Yeah, when Jake’d finally get his firs--.”  
  
Jake actually surprises him when he slaps a hand over his mouth. “I think Connor’s looking for you.”  
  
Carter licks Jake’s palm, one last stupid act, before he retreats.

He only feels marginally better when he spots Connor sitting alone nursing a beer. He looks particularly good tonight in his dark jeans and dress boots.

Who is he kidding, Connor always looks good.

“Where’d Anna go?” he asks, settling heavy into the empty chair at Connor’s table.

“Oh.” Connor signals over his shoulder with a flap of his hand. “Somewhere.”

“Let’s get drunk.”

“Halfway there,” Connor replies, tilting his beer Carter’s way.

“Lightweight.” He jostles Connor with his shoulder. “I’m buying, c’mon.”

The bar is empty when they head over and Bray looks unhappy to see them. “I’m not making anymore stupid drinks for you.”

Carter waves him off. “Two shots of whiskey, please.”

Bray is quick and Carter doesn’t wait for Connor to tip the liquor back. “Two more.”

“What’s the rush?” Connor asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Carter loves how red Connor’s lips sometimes get, how he bites and rubs at them until they’re flushed. “No reason.”

“Okay.” He tosses back his second shot in solidarity. “Two more,” he orders. “And one for you, too.”

Bray pours the liquor but refuses his shot. “I’m not drinking tonight.”

Carter and Connor both frown and heckle him. “What kind of bartender doesn’t take free shots?”

“A good one.” Bray says it with a smile, putting the whiskey back on the shelf. “You startin’ a tab or what?”

Carter reaches for his wallet but Connor’s faster, fumbling his credit card out onto the bar. He should protest, should at least offer to split it, but Bray’s already run it. “Thanks,” he says, instead.

Connor taps his third shot against Carter’s. “Cheers, bro.”

Carter watches his throat work, the little grimace after he swallows the liquor. He knows Connor’s cheeks will pink up even more soon, that his ears will go red and sometimes the back of his neck. He runs hot when he’s drunk and Carter wants to know if he’d burn him.

“Bathroom’s calling me,” Connor says, putting his empty shot glass down.

“I probably wouldn’t do that,” Bray says. “It’s occupied at the moment.”

“There’s more than one stall,” Connor scoffs.

“Yeah, but they’re not soundproof.”

They turn around just in time to see Yanni and Jake come out, both flushed and slightly disheveled.

Bray passes over a bottle of Lysol.

Carter slides his shot back and forth between his hands, some of it dripping down the sides.

“Anything you wanna talk about?” Bray asks, picking up the glass and slipping a napkin underneath.

Bray’s not really a friend. He’s a good guy and Carter’s known him almost all his life, but there are a handful of other people in this town Carter would air his laundry to before Bray. Honestly, Pudge is the only one who’s ever figured out this particular set of demons. “I’m good.”

He takes his shot and heads for the bathroom.

Connor’s washing his hands and startles when Carter enters, door slamming against the wall. Carter keeps his head down as he passes behind him but Connor catches his wrist, tugs at him until he presses him up against the wall.

Oh, fuck.

Connor’s eyelashes fan out along his cheeks as his gaze flicks down to Carter’s mouth. He tilts his head, considering, and drags his tongue along his bottom lip. Carter can’t think about anything else, can’t form any kind of thought that isn’t Connor and his fucking presence.

They’ve been this close before, sharing beds when they were younger and falling asleep on couches. Sometimes it felt like there was something else between them, a small fire barely surviving on kindling and scraps of newspaper.

Connor’s pouring gasoline all over it.

“Tell me something true,” Carter forces out, stalling.

“I really want to fucking kiss you right now.”

Carter feels like he’s being burned alive as Connor smiles, so much softer than it has any right to be.

“Now, tell _me_ something true,” Connor presses. He shifts closer, hands coming up to bracket Carter’s shoulders.

Carter whines, he can’t help it. He has to look away from Connor, count the dirty tiles around his feet to calm himself down. He’s in so far over his head and every cell in his body is begging him to lie.

He can’t.

He can’t when Connor asks like this.

“I always want to kiss you,” he admits, barely more than a whisper.

The most beautiful sound escapes from the back of Connor’s throat just before he bites a kiss against Carter’s mouth.

Carter instantly melts into it, brings his hands up to cup Connor’s jaw, hold him there against his lips. But this isn’t….he shouldn’t be...

He tightens his hands, fingers biting into Connor’s skin, and breaks the kiss. They’re both breathing heavy as Carter caresses Connor’s jaw, studies him to try and figure out just how drunk he is. He’s been drinking longer than Carter, all those shots. Surely that’s all it is. A drunken lapse of judgement.

“W-what are you--?” he stutters out.

“Thought you said you always wanna kiss me?” Connor’s face softens and his eyes go dark. It’s all going to be the death of Carter.

“I do, but--”

Connor leans against Carter, pressing him firmly against the wall. He noses along Carter’s jaw, his breath warm. “Why aren’t we kissin’, then?” he asks against Carter’s skin.

Jesus wept, he is so, so fucked.

Because he really does want to be kissing Connor. If this morning someone had asked him what his top three life goals were, kissing Connor would have been second on the list. Now? Now, it is firmly in first place. He almost can’t think about anything else.

Connor doesn’t really look that drunk.

He kissed Carter first.

Maybe they won’t regret this in the mor--

Connor finds Carter’s lips again and Carter’s fingers slip up into his hair as Connor deepens the kiss.

Carter could stay here and be devoured, let Connor swallow him up like this. As it stands, he lets Connor press against him, closing every inch of space between them. He’s got his hands firm on Carter’s hips to hold him still and Carter thinks he would float away without him there to ground him.

The drag of Connor’s lips against his own is intoxicating and Carter can’t imagine he’ll ever get enough. He tugs at Connor’s hair and swallows up a moan, gets a sharp bite to his lip in return. Fuck, his hips thrust forward and Connor’s fitting a thigh between his legs to let him grind against.

Connor’s hands slip from his hips down to the back pockets of his jeans, keeping Carter as close to him as possible. Carter has to breathe, has to gasp against Connor’s lips but Connor just crowds impossibly closer, chasing his mouth.

Carter can’t, he’s too overwhelmed, and Connor takes the tilt of his head as an invitation to map out the shape of Carter’s jaw, the rough lines of his throat. Carter whines at each tender kiss along the bend of his neck. He wishes Connor had more of a beard, so he could keep this moment with him for days, see the bright red irritation on his skin every time he looked in the mirror.

Connor bares his teeth against Carter’s neck and Carter wishes he would just _bite_ so everyone would know that just once, Connor wanted him.

Instead, the bathroom door slams open, a wave of mingled conversation spilling into the quiet space they carved for themselves. Connor isn’t fast enough, doesn’t jump away or let Carter escape from behind him. They both freeze, compromising position on full display.

Carter is terrified to look over Connor’s shoulder, terrified of whose eyes he’ll meet, of who will know. 

“I think it’s time to go,” Pudge says, voice flat.

 

//

 

Carter feels worse than when he hit a baseball into Mrs. Dendor’s window when he was six. The shame that settles into his chest is almost unbearable. Climbing into the back of Pudge’s truck, he’s expecting a long, awkward ride home. A cavern of unspoken words between the three of them.

Instead, Connor slides all the way over until he’s pressed up against Carter’s side. He curls into Carter’s neck, presses a soft kiss there.

Carter can’t suppress a shiver. “Connor…”

“Shhh,” he hushes. “He already knows, how much worse can it be?”

Connor rests a hand high on Carter’s thigh as he picks a spot behind his ear to kiss. Carter’s going to swallow his own tongue.

“Y’always smell so good here,” Connor whispers, nosing along the curve of Carter’s ear. “Warm.”

Carter risks a glance, turning his head just enough to catch Connor’s gaze. He brushes the tip of his nose against Connor’s, parts his lips and…

Pudge clears his throat.

Connor settles his head on Carter’s shoulder then, a small smile blooming in the shadows. His hand is still on Carter’s leg, fingers absently tracing the seam of his jeans. It’s all terrible.

Terribly perfect.

Pudge turns the radio up, something soft and tragic the way country music sometimes is. Connor sighs, folds himself closer.

“Gonna fall asleep?” Carter asks, knowing how easily the rock of a truck can put him out.

“No.”

He indulges, lifting his arm so he can wrap it around Connor’s shoulders. So Connor can settle even closer against him, pillow his head on his chest. Carter traces patterns along his back, nonsense designs mixed in with the letters of their names.

His eyelashes catch in the streetlamps, casting shadows along his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His breath evens out as they turn off the main road.

Carter looks up, sees Pudge’s eyes in the rear-view mirror when they pass under another lamp. “Don’t give me that look. I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I just don’t get why you’d kiss him now after managing not to for all of this time.” Pudge’s eyes flick back to the road.

Carter understands why Pudge would think that, why he’d _assume_. “He kissed _me_.”

“You’re shittin’ me.” Pudge doesn’t jerk the truck when he looks back into the mirror, eyes wide, but Carter thinks it’s a near thing. “What d’ya think made him do that?”

“I don’t know.” Carter runs gentle fingertips along one of Connor’s eyebrows. “I don’t regret kissing him back. And I know he’s never going to…” Carter shakes his head. “I _know_ that I’m going to have to hear in the morning that he didn’t mean to, that it was an accident, or whatever, but he wanted me this once, and that’s honestly enough.”

Carter ignores the huff of annoyance from Pudge, lets his finger trail down to Connor’s jaw where he’s scruffy.

“Do you really think it’s going to be enough, Carter?”

Connor snuffles in his sleep and Carter’s heart melts. “Well, it’ll have to be, won’t it?”

Pudge pulls up into their driveway, jostling everyone until they get to the carport. Connor’s still fast asleep, though, and Carter wishes he didn’t have to wake him.

“C’mon,” Pudge says, opening the back door. “Slide him out, I’ll help.”

“Hey,” Carter whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Connor’s temple. “Y’gotta wake up just a little. Help us get you upstairs.”

Connor groans but works with Carter as he gets him out of the truck and into Pudge’s arms. They have a fair bit of practice getting late night dead weight into the house and up to a bed. It’s a lot easier to get someone up a flight of stairs with two people.

Connor looks soft and small in Carter’s bed. He rolls over onto Carter’s side and mashes his face into his pillow.

Carter supposes that’s fine.

“I won’t wake you in the morning.” Pudge smirks from the doorway. “I’ll take care of the cows and the chickens, don’t worry about it.” Carter knows that he’s never going to hear the end of this.

“Shut up, I can--”

“No, you need a morning off. You have a talk to have, right?” He nods at the bed. “Give me your keys, I’ll bring Sierra back.”

Carter hands them over, with a huff. “You know she’s temperamental. You gotta jig--.”

“Jiggle the key and turn the wheel to the left, yes I know.” Pudge grins and pats him on the shoulder as he heads for his own room at the other end of the hall.

Carter debates sleeping in the loveseat he watches TV on, but the chance to share a bed with Connor is too good to pass up. It’s been years since the last time.

He tugs his shirt over his head and crawls in under the covers, rolling into Connor, knowing this is the closest he’ll ever get. He tries not to bounce around as he gets settled but Connor shifts, turning over to face him with his eyes still closed.

Carter lets himself run a hand up Connor’s jawline, caressing his light beard. “Good night,” he whispers before brushing a kiss to Connor’s forehead.


	2. Then - Carter

Carter’s only been at the playground for about five minutes but he’s already climbed up into the castle and slid down the big silver pole. He’s making his way toward the jungle gym when he spots a kid about his age sitting by himself over on the little rubber barrier keeping all the wood chips in. He’s all chub and crazy, floofy hair but he’s brushing wood chips from his his forehead which doesn’t seem good at all

The boy curls up on himself and clutches his knee in both hands. He’s shaking, Carter thinks, and he looks around to maybe find his ma, but doesn’t see anyone running over to him. It makes Carter worry that he might be here alone with no one to take care of him, so he makes his way over.

“Hi.” 

The boy startles and looks up at him with big, dark watery eyes. He doesn’t have any eyebrows which makes his forehead look bigger than all the other foreheads Carter’s ever seen. He squats down to get a better look at the kid’s cut. It doesn’t look bad but Carter doesn’t have his stethoscope so he can’t listen to his heart to be sure. He sees the boy’s crooked jaw is clenched tight and remembers about the knee thing, too. 

“Maybe I can help?” Carter offers, settling down next to him. He whimpers when Carter carefully peels his hands away. “Shh, it’s okay,” he says before blowing gently on the skinned knee underneath. 

It’s a trick that he learned from his ma. It’s foolproof, and so of course it works.

“Better?” Carter asks. The boy nods, wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

“C’mon, my ma has band-aids.” He leans in close, not wanting the secret to get out. “They’re good ones. With Hot Wheels.” 

He spots her quickly and runs off in her direction. “Ma, I need a band-aid,” he yells. He looks over his shoulder after he arrives, the boy is trailing along, a light limp in his step.

“What happened? Are you alright?” she asks, reaching for her purse.

“My friend skinned his knee, that’s all. He’s okay, I made sure.”

“Oh, okay, well, you two be careful out there.”

“We will, Ma.” Carter rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you sass me, Carter Verhaeghe,” she says with a laugh as she hands the bandage over.

“Sorry, Ma!” he says rushing off, his attention already back on his new friend.

The kid only made it about halfway to where Carter’s Ma was sitting but Carter’s fast, finding him quickly and waving the band-aid in the air. “I got one,” he says. “Stay still so I can put it on.”

He pulls back the plastic strips and affixes the colored cars to the boy’s knee. “I’m Carter, by the way.”

“You talk funny,” is the response Carter gets. 

He looks up under his bangs. “Heard my ma said it like that once.” Carter blushes, he just wanted to sound grown up.

The boy laughs even though he still has tear tracks running down his chubby little face. “I’m Connor.”

Carter stands up and holds out a hand. “Come on, let’s go play on the monkey bars.”

Connor smiles at him and takes his offered hand. 

 

They haven’t been playing for long when a lady who must be Connor’s ma walks up. She’s got bright pink lipstick and her hair all tied up on top of her head. She doesn’t look anything like Connor. She has eyebrows. “Connor, sweetie, come on. It’s time to go.”

“But we just got here, Mama,” Connor whines at her. She frowns at Carter like he’s the one who complained.

“Yes, I know, but I just remembered there’s an errand I have to run before the craft shop closes.” She smiles sweetly at Connor. “Come on, I’ll get you some ice cream on the way.”

“I don’t want ice cream, Mama! I wanna play with Carter!”

Carter is surprised. He would never backtalk his ma like that. “Well, maybe we can play later?” he offers nervously, not wanting any trouble. His ma walks up before Connor’s can answer.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” she asks. Her smile is weird, like that time she told Carter nothing was wrong after he dropped her best plate and it shattered. 

“It’s just time for Connor to say goodbye because we have to be going,” Connor’s ma says with a sniff. She takes Connor by the hand and tries to tug him to her side.

“You have to ask Carter’s mama if Carter can come over first!” Connor objects, not letting her pull him away. 

“I don’t think Ms. Verhaeghe is interested in dragging her son all around town to see you,” she says. There’s something odd in the way that she says their name, like it tastes like peas. Carter doesn’t think that makes much sense.

“I don’t mind bringing Carter over to your place if your son wants to play with him,” his ma replies, and now Connor’s ma looks like someone put a big plate of brussel sprouts in front of her. It makes Carter want to laugh, but there’s something about the way his ma is standing that stops him.

“See! He can come over!” Connor smiles at Carter. “As soon as possible, right?”

And that’s how Carter finds himself standing if front of the biggest house in town at nine in the morning.

 

Carter and Connor are inseparable after that, spending all their time together. They play a lot of video games, which is something that Carter’s never really done before. He’s not very good and he can’t practice at home, but Connor doesn’t seem to mind. 

They never really leave one another’s side if they can help it, and it isn’t long before Carter is spending the night over at Connor’s. He likes staying over cause they get to make popcorn in the microwave way after bedtime. And because Connor’s kind of the best.

Sometimes Connor comes over to Carter’s house, but his ma calls and checks up on him so much the house phone is ringing every hour on the hour. Carter’s Ma doesn’t  _ say  _ that it’s annoying, but Carter knows what that wrinkle on her forehead means. So it’s just better to go to Connor’s. His ma seems less annoyed, anyway.

It’s all fine as long as he’s hanging out with Connor.

Saturdays are always the best because they can stay up together the longest. Connor grabbed some snacks from the kitchen a while ago, nothing but wrappers and an empty popcorn bowl to show for it. Carter’s full and content, burrowing deeper into the little couch Connor has in his room. 

“I win again!” Connor crows. 

Carter snaps his eyes open, realizing he drove Luigi right off rainbow road. He yawns.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Verswaggy! You said we’d stay up all night!”

“One o’clock counts as all night.” He slumps over to the side, face pressed against the arm of the couch. It’s so soft and nice. 

“Does not. You’re lame.”

Carter yawns again. “Shut up.  _ You’re _ lame.” 

“One of these days,” Connor says, flopping down on top of where Carter’s curled up. “We’re gonna watch the sun come up.”

Carter hums. He thinks that sounds perfect. “One day.”

“Go get in bed.” Connor pulls Carter upright. “And try not to snore so much.”

“I don’t snore,” he scoffs. 

Connor smiles all smug and pleased with himself. “Do so.”

“It’s not nice to tell lies.” Carter makes his way to the bed, tugging down the blanket and sheet on the side that feels like his. “Tell me somethin’ true.” 

“You snore, but it’s cute,” Connor says, easy as anything. 

Carter presses his face into the pillow.


	3. Now - Connor

Connor is warm when he wakes up, blanket tucked up under his chin and familiar limbs twisted up with his own. Carter’s still asleep, soft snores spilling out of his open mouth, and Connor can’t believe it.

He can’t believe he just _went_ for it and Carter met him halfway. More than halfway. He wonders how long Carter’s felt this way about him, how long they’ve been ignoring it. Shit, probably way too long. There’s so much time to make up for, so many things he wants to _tell_ him.

But he has to do something first. Something he maybe should have done years ago.

Connor tucks his pinky around Carter’s. “I’ll be right back,” he whispers, before rolling out of bed.

He finds an old receipt on Carter’s nightstand and scribbles a quick note for him to find when he wakes up. Carter rolls over as Connor sneaks out of his room, careful to miss all the creaky spots on his way down the stairs.

Pudge isn’t anywhere to be found despite his truck being in the drive and Connor’s almost thankful. He walks to the main road and calls a cab, glad they’re still far enough away from winter that it’s not too cold of a morning. The leaves are starting to turn red and gold, piling up in the grass along the road. He kicks at them and goes out of his way to step on a few of the crunchy looking ones. He flips his phone in his hand, the urge to scream his feelings to every corner of social media is strong. There’s so many things he wants to say.

The cab is quicker than usual, tires kicking up dirt as it heads for where Connor’s waiting.

“Where to, pal?”

Connor gives the guy Anna’s address.

He leans his head back against the seat, smile spreading big and wide across his face. God, if this isn’t the best feeling in the world. He’s seen so many of the guys fall in love the past few years, so many find their person, and damn if his hasn’t been sitting next to him this whole time.

A little part of him knew it. A little part of him has been clinging on to that hope all these years, that Carter felt the same way he did. It’s like a weight lifted the moment their lips met. All the doubt and worry vanished with each kiss.

He’s gotta do this right. Carter absolutely deserves that.

Anna’s duplex is familiar with it’s crooked mailbox and baby blue rocking chair on the porch. Connor can see the front door’s open and pays the cab before heading up the walk.

There’s some music filtering out through the screen, and he thinks he can hear Anna banging around. Maybe she’s cleaning. He can do this. “Hello? Anna?”

Her face pops into view, a messy bun knotted on the top of her head. She’s wearing her glasses and a ratty t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” he says. “Face-to-face.”

She wipes her hands off on her jeans and pushes the screen door open. “That’s probably for the best.”

Connor spots the half-filled suitcase on the floor, clothes and shoes spilling out of it. “Where’re you going?”

Anna sits on the couch and motions for Connor to do the same. “I...I talked to the town elder last night.” She pauses, folds her hands in her lap. “Connor, we’re not...we’re _not_.”

Carter knows. He came here to tell her the exact same thing, but something small still sinks in his chest. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“How long did you know?”

“That’s not a fair question,” he argues, sitting up a little straighter. “It hasn’t always been like this.”

“Wasn’t it?” The smile she turns on him is sad, not even close to reaching her eyes. “How many times did you wake up and wish I was someone else? That I had green eyes instead of blue? Sharp angles where I’m soft?”

Connor’s face heats, the back of his neck flushing hot. “Anna…”

“How many times?”

He shakes his head, he can’t say it. Can’t confirm what she already knows. “I’m sorry.”

She deflates, flopping back against the couch. “Why didn’t you _say_ something?”

“I’m _sorry_.” He tries to put as much sincerity in his words as possible. He _is_ sorry. So, so sorry

“Why don’t you think the magic worked for us?”

Connor’s pretty sure he knows the answer to that. His heart never really had a chance to belong to anyone else. “Mama doesn’t always know best.”

That at least gets a little laugh from her, breaking the last strings of tension.

“You never said where’re you’re goin’,” he says. “I saw your suitcase.”

Anna crosses her arms, pouts a little. “Figured if nobody here was for me, I should go to the city.”

“You goin’ to Tulsa?”

“No, dummy. I’m going to St. Louis.” Her laugh is twinkly. It hasn’t sounded this light in so long.

“Really? St. Louis?” He scrunches his nose up in disapproval.

“It’s not that much farther.”

“Yeah, but it’s _big_.”

“Maybe I like big! How’m I gonna know if I don’t see for myself,” she says. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I really hope that you find what you’re looking for there.” Connor takes a deep breath, lets it out on a slow sigh as he stands.

“I hope you do, too,” she says. She smiles, and he sees a little bit of the girl he met all those years ago in quilting club.

“Let me know when you get settled?” he says as they walk back to the front door.

“Of course I will.” She leans in, presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’d say good luck, but I think that maybe you don’t need it.”

There’s an objection on the tip of his tongue, but she’s already waving him out the door. “Shoo, get out of here so I can finish packing.”

“Catch you around, Anna.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She heads back inside and Connor feels the last bit of weight lift from his chest as he walks away.

He walks to the corner as he fiddles with his phone to order another cab back to his truck. There’s a little shop there with their open sign on and he gets an idea.

“Excuse me,” he asks the young girl behind the counter. “Do you sell ring pops?”

She shrugs. “They’d be with the candy over there.”

He heads to the aisle she points to and scans the shelves. There’s a blue one and a red one and a few green ones. None are the color he’s looking for. He grabs a couple drinks, one Coke for him and an orange soda for Carter, so he doesn’t return empty handed and goes back to the corner to wait.


	4. Then - Connor

Connor doesn’t want to toot his own horn, but he’s kind of good at video games. Carter’s on the couch next to him with his tongue between his teeth, wiggling the game controller like it helps move the little hockey players on the screen.

“You’re never gonna come back from this,” Connor chirps, putting another puck behind Carter’s goalie.

“Come on!” Carter tosses his controller on the couch.

Connor pauses their game and shoves his shoulder against Carter’s.

“You suck, but I got this for you.” Carter reaches over to rummage in his backpack and pulls out a grape ring pop.

Connor looks down at it before smiling. His cheeks heat a bit as he says, “Why Carter Verhaeghe, are you proposing to me?”

Carter returns his smile with a grin. “Of course.”

His heart beats so hard in his chest at the thought that Carter could ever be asking that question. That he could want Connor in that way. “Are you serious?”

Carter blushes, shrugging as he drops his eyes.

That is not a no. Maybe it isn’t a yes, but it’s definitely not a no either.

The air in the room changes, settling heavy around them. Connor reaches out, closing his hand around Carter’s still holding the purple candy ring. He leans closer, almost too close to be friendly, but it’s what feels right.

“What’re’ya doin’?” Carter asks. He’s bright red, studying where their hands are joined. Connor doesn’t know but all he can think is, ‘ _Kiss him, Kiss him, kisshim KISSHIM'._

He takes a shaky breath and licks his lips. Carter looks up at him from under his lashes, his eyes blown wide. Connor doesn’t know what it means, but he’s going to kiss him now and just apologize later.

“Carter, Mrs. Erne called for you, said it’s time to come home and do your chores.” They jump apart at the sound of his mama’s voice.

Connor has never been so mad to see his mama in his _life_. “Mama,--”

“And it’s time for quilting anyway, Connor.”

He huffs in frustration, but turns back to Carter who is already slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll come over after, okay?”

“Okay,” Carter replies quietly. He offers Connor the ghost of a smile as he heads for the stairs.

It worries Connor a bit, but Mama is already shooing him toward the front door. She turns to Connor expectantly and he quickly grabs his half-finished quilt off the dresser and obediently follows her out his room.

 

  
“Why don’t you go sit by Anna, Connor,” Mama instructs the moment they get to the rec center that hosts quilting club each week.

“I don’t wanna sit next to her, Mama.” Connor knows that he’s whining, but she always makes him sit by Anna. It isn’t that there’s anything wrong with her, but she’s, like, _too nice_.  And she always tries to talk to him the whole time when he isn’t very good at quilting to begin with and he has to have this quilt done in time for Carter’s birthday in five months.

“Just go sit by her,” Mama snaps before turning to Mrs. Witkowski and putting on a brilliant smile. “Ella, so lovely to see you this week...”

Connor shakes his head. He hates hearing his mama make nice with all the people she complains about at home.

“Hi, Connor,” Anna says to him with a shy smile when he settles in the open seat next to her.

“Hey, Anna.” Connor pulls out his wad of quilt-shaped fabric.

They work in relative silence, other conversations filtering in and out of range. Connor is concentrating on lining up his seams properly when Anna asks, “Why is your quilt such...unique colors?”

He doesn’t want to be rude but the way she’s schooling her face when he looks up at her makes him seriously debate telling her to mind her own business. Instead, he puts on a smile. “It’s for my best friend, Carter.”

“That doesn’t explain the colors.” She laughs. It’s a decent enough sound, even if it isn’t exactly his cup of tea.

“Well, one is my favorite color and the other is his.” Dang it. He wasn’t paying enough attention and now he’ll have to re-work his current seam. He pulls it out, sure that his annoyance shows but not particularly caring.

“Is orange his favorite color?”

“It’s mine,” Connor replies, trying to be more careful with his seam.

“Oh. I didn’t expect that.” Anna tilts her head, curious.

“What’s wrong with orange?”

“Nothing!” She says a little too quickly. “You, um, you just seemed like someone who likes blue, that’s all.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Connor smirks, but it’s more at the quilt than Anna.

“Oh, no. I’m not disappointed in you.” She’s smiling brightly at him when he spares her another look. “I like learning new things.”

“Uh, okay. Cool,” Connor says, feeling awkward as he pulls out the embroidery thread.


	5. Now - Carter

Carter wakes up alone under his quilt, faded and soft from so many years of use. He runs his fingers over the hand-stitched blue and orange CC, his heart aching while he thinks,  _ ‘Well, I wish that this was unexpected.’ _

The things that happened last night flash through his mind, all the shitty things he said and did to Jake, being a dick to Bray. Connor. What on god’s green earth was he thinking? 

There’s a note on his bedside table in Connor’s scratchy handwriting and he can’t even look at it. Doesn’t want to read the polite  _ see you around _ or  _ talk to you later _ or worse yet the  _ we shouldn’t have done this _ that’s on the little scrap of paper. 

“Shit, I am a total fuck up,” he mutters to himself, dragging a hand over his face. He sulks, going over all the ways he could have made different decisions. Going through every embarrassment until he decides he has to make it up to everyone. He has to make it right.  So he pushes himself up to get ready and go apologize. 

He turns the shower on as hot as it will go and stands under the spray, letting it pink up his skin. He watches the soap swirl down the drain and his stomach feels a little sick when the white tiles of his shower remind him of the bar bathroom. 

Of Connor pressed against him. Connor’s lips. Connor’s hands holding him still. Connor wanting him in ways he’d only ever dreamed of. 

He turns off the water and tries to shake the memories from his head, runs a towel through his hair. He can’t even look at himself in the mirror when he brushes his teeth, afraid of what his skin might be holding on to from the night before. 

He dresses quickly and grabs the last apple on his way out the door.

Sierra’s parked at the end of the driveway in all her fairway green and dented-left-fender-rust-spotted glory. “Remind me to thank Pudge and Cory for bringing you home,” Carter says to her as he climbs in. 

He jiggles the key before jerking the wheel to the left, getting the engine to turn over like a charm. His truck’s a bit of a bumpy ride to the main road but she gets him from A to B just fine. He manually rolls down the window and sticks his arm out to feel the sun as he heads across town.

Jake’s cottage is just inside the town line on its little plot of land, freshly mowed. His big black truck sits in the driveway.

Carter parks and takes a few deep breaths. He goes over what he plans to say, how he plans to say it. He’s got to get this right. 

“This better be important,” Jake says when he pulls the door open. He’s wearing boxers, one side of the elastic not quite pulled up to his waist. The way he’s all out of breath and the artfully scattered love bites across his chest suggest that they haven’t been on for very long. 

Carter is definitely interrupting something. He’s already here. He may as well apologize. “Hey, Jakey, I--”

“Don’t worry about it, I'm good, Carter.”

Jake’s words feel a little like a slap in the face. “Yeah, but--”

“It’s fine. Apology accepted. Okay, bye.” And Jake closes the door on him, just like that. 

“Well, alright then.” 

His phone vibrates with a text and he pulls it out as he climbs back into his truck. It’s from Connor, asking where he is. 

_ Had to do some stuff _

He debates going back to his place, asking Connor to wait for him there. He needs to try apologizing for losing his goddamn mind and kissing him, has to see if he can patch things up somehow. 

But there’s the little issue that he’ll probably find Connor in the same state as Jake, fresh marks bitten into his skin. He isn’t ready and if he doesn’t see it, he can just pretend for a few more hours that Connor does want him. 

_ K _ , Connor texts back.  _ lemme know when you’re done? _

He hesitates before sending back a quick  _ sure _ and tucking his phone away. There’s a list of other people he could apologize to so he heads out to Witty’s shop near the state road, his tail tucked firmly between his legs.

Witty’s got a few trucks with the hoods popped open and a beat up car on a jack. There’s a new string of red triangle flags draped across the front of his shop flapping in the breeze. Carter knows he sees him coming. 

“Hey, Wits.” He pulls off his hat, crumbles it between his hands. “I was wondering if you had anything extra I could pick up today?” 

“Dunno if I have work for people who are such shitheads to their friends,” Witty drawls. He dabs an oily rag at his forehead. “Especially during something so important to said friend.” 

Carter sighs. “I already tried to talk to him, Wits. I wanted to apologize, but he’s fine. Better than fine, I’d wager.”

“You have to quit pulling this shit, Carter,” Witty says with a frown. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Carter feels like his whole life has been spent apologizing for the way that it sucks to be him. He isn’t going to complain, though, so he waits. 

Witty’s shoulders seem to lose a little anger before he says, “Well, I guess Mrs. Miller did bring in her car for a brake change earlier.” He nods his head at the beat up car. “And I’m sort of swamped, so, if you promise not to show your ass again, at least for a while, you can do that.”

“Thanks, Wits,” Carter replies, relieved something small is going his way. The brake change should make him back most of what he blew last night. 

He checks his phone and, finding no new notifications, puts it on silent and gets to work. 


	6. Then - Carter

Today is the day that he’s going to do it. Carter is going to ask Connor out. He’s pretty sure it’s going to work, that their feelings are mutual after Connor came over the other night. After they spent it together. Carter knows that Connor’ll say yes, and his note doesn’t need anymore redrafts. It’s perfect. 

He folds it up, draws a little heart on it, and heads down the stairs.

He keeps it in his hand the whole time: getting in Sierra, fiddling with the wheel until she turns on, finding just the right song on the radio. He fidgets with it, turning it over and over in his hand. He traces the heart at a stoplight, smudging a bit of the pencil. Great.   
  


His usual spot in the back corner of the school lot is open, the space next to it similarly empty. He waits until the end of a song before shutting everything down. 

He can’t go inside. 

A sudden bout of nerves fills his stomach, inching its way up to his throat, almost suffocating him. 

No. No, this is the most important day of his life. He is going to do this. He has to. 

Their lockers are over by the gym and Carter takes his time pulling out the books he’ll need for his first few classes, careful to keep his note in his hand. 

Connor bumps his shoulder when he arrives at his locker, right next to Carter’s. 

“Hey.” He smiles, tries to look natural and not at all anxious. “What’s happening?”

“I’m thinking I’m going to ask Anna out,” Connor blurts out without a greeting. 

“You’re...who?” It’s a shock to Carter’s system. He’s confused, he doesn’t know why Connor would be--

“Anna. She’s this girl from quilting club.” Connor turns to his locker, grabs a book.

The ground shifts under Carter. This can’t be right, Connor can’t want  _ this _ , because Carter can’t believe that he could have spent his whole life reading every single moment he’s been with Connor so  _ wrong _ . “Are you sure?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s nice and she’s pretty. I like her.”

“Oh,” Carter pastes his smile back on. “That’s. Um. That’s great, Connor,” he says, shoving his note with the heart on it in into his pocket. He won’t cry. He will not.

“What’s that?” Connor asks, following the motion.

“Not important, don’t worry,” Carter dismisses

“Was that, did I see a heart drawn on it?” Connor hesitates. “Do you like someone?”

It’s almost enough to make Carter confess, but he just doesn’t see the point anymore. “I said don’t worry about it, Connor.”

Connor looks at him for a couple of heartbeats. “Tell me something true.” 

He hates it. In this very moment, he hates Connor for asking him that. “I just want you to be happy,” he answers quietly, shifting his eyes to the school’s dirty laminate flooring.

“Are you sure?” Connor asks.

Carter takes a deep breath, looks back into Connor’s face. “There is nothing I want more in this world then for you to be happy.”

“Yeah?” 

Carter swallows, nods because he doesn’t trust his voice. 

Connor closes his locker, pats Carter on the shoulder. “Then guess Imma do it at lunch. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Carter calls weakly at his retreating backside. 

 

//

 

So, Connor asks her out. She says yes and they go to Date Night that Friday while Carter stays home alone in his little apartment over the Ernes’ barn. 

It’s about ten-thirty when he gets a text from Connor.  _ Movie was crap but she let me eat most of the popcorn so it wasn’t all bad! _

It’s just a dagger to the heart that he doesn’t need right now. He places his phone down without replying because he doesn’t know what to say. It takes a while for him to fall asleep that night.

 

Things get sort of tough at school after that. He’s alone most of the time now. He sees Connor at their lockers and some mornings they get to the parking lot at the same time, but more often than not Connor’s with Anna. 

The popular kids have all decided that New and Improved Connor is worth their time. They all sit at the same table at lunch and laugh about things and eat the nice sandwiches. Carter knows Connor’s popular too when he shows up to school with his hair cut short and all tousled on top.

Everyone loves him and Anna together, they all talk about how the two of ‘em should have gotten together ages ago, how maybe they’ll be homecoming king and queen.

Carter spends a lot of time in his room doing his homework. He still has the note he wrote, folded up with a smeared pencil heart on it. Sometimes he considers throwing it away. Ripping it up. Burning it. 

He keeps it because it’s all he’s got now that Connor’s happy with someone else. Now that Connor’s left him holding the pieces of his shattered heart.   
  
  


His ma was right and he should have listened to her.


	7. Now - Connor

Connor dismisses the notification from his mama that pops up as he lets himself into Carter and Pudge’s place, like he has so many times before. He sticks their drinks in the fridge before flopping down on the couch to wait. He picks up the remote to flick through the channels, stopping when he finds a rerun of Judge Judy.

It’s not long before his phone buzzes with another notification, this time from Carter: _omw._ Not even fifteen minutes pass before he hears the crunch of the gravel drive and Carter steps through the door. His hair’s a mess and there’s a little grease on his cheek and neck, forearms dirty with the oil and grime of car parts. It’s almost too much for Connor to deal with.

“Hey,” Carter says, tossing his keys on the table.

Connor stands, suddenly having no idea what to do with his hands. “Hey.”

“I, uh, Witty had some work for me so--”

“Anna’s leaving,” Connor blurts.

Carter gapes in surprise. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I mean. I can’t believe...why did we…” Connor rounds the couch and kisses Carter, runs a hand under his shirt, fingers needing to _touch_. “Holy _shit_ , you are so ripped.”

Connor’s seen it, he has eyes, but actually getting to touch all of that tan skin is...it feels better than he ever imagined.

Carter laughs, just a little, before he sobers. His features go all serious and intense as he traces the lines of Connor’s face. “You know, I don’t mind being this for you.”

“Being what?” Connor blinks, confused.

“You know.” He indicates between them. “ _This_. Until you get your, um, your happy coincidence?”

That...doesn’t even make any sense to Connor. There is nothing happier than this. Nothing Connor could want more. He tries to come up with a response before remembering he could just be kissing Carter instead.

So that’s what he does, frantically working at the button of Carter’s work jeans as he bites and kisses at his lips. His pants may be slung so low on his hips it’s practically obscene, but they aren’t open, and Connor’s pretty sure that’s a crime.

Carter, for his part, grips Connor around the wrists and pins him to the wall before his work is done and Connor can’t stop staring at how that belt buckle hangs open. The best kind of tease.

“You think we could fit in my shower?” he asks.

The bottom drops out of Connor’s stomach. A thrill sprints up his spine and he swears he can feel his heartbeat triple. “I do love a challenge.”

They thunder up the stairs, Carter shedding his shirt and throwing it towards the bed on the way to the bathroom.

Connor strips while Carter starts the water, leaving a little pile of clothes by the bathroom door. It should be mundane, but the way that the muscles in Carter’s back move while he stretches out is...Connor whimpers, reaching out, wanting to touch.

Carter turns back, smiles slowly. “Eager?” he asks, finally popping the button on his jeans.

Connor nods, knows his eyes are wide, that they go even wider when Carter pushes his jeans down over his hips.

He was wrong before. _That_ is obscene.

Carter pulls Connor into the tub, crowds him up against the tile, turns him, gives him a little push towards the wall. Connor's hands slap against the wet squares; he pushes back into the biting kisses Carter’s peppering down his neck and across his shoulders. He shudders when Carter’s hands slip along the water flowing down his sides, gripping at his hips.

Connor presses back into Carter's touch, loves the way that Carter’s body covers every inch of his own, and it’s almost too much.

He already feels like he’s right on the edge.

“Mmm, you taste so good,” Carter mumbles into his ear before dragging his tongue along the shell of it. Connor’s knees go a little weak and he’s thankful to have the wall there to catch him.

Carter steps away and Connor’s back immediately chills. He turns just as the woody scent of Carter’s body wash hits him. He’s got his shoulders and arms lathered up, the soap slipping and sliding down the ridges of his body. Connor licks his lips, following a particularly scandalous cluster of bubbles that settle into the cut of of his hip before melting away.

Fuck.

Carter catches him looking when he rinses the soap from his back, but Connor can’t look away. Carter preens ever so slightly when Connor licks his lips and wraps a hand around his very interested dick. 

Yeah so, Connor thinks that maybe they’ve spent enough time in the shower.

“Let’s, um. Your bed. Now.” Connor tries to squeeze past Carter, but he’s a little too scrambly, too _frantic_ , and he slips. His life flashes before his eyes until Carter grabs him and steadies him.

“Hey, hey, relax, the bed isn't going anywhere,” Carter says, calm and soothing. Connor leans into Carter and takes a deep breath, the scent of his soap still filling his nose. He’s always been so good at settling Connor down.

“Yeah, see, isn’t that better?” he murmurs. His movements are slow and measured as he nuzzles into the spot behind Connor's ear. “C’mon, gorgeous.”

They crawl into bed, not bothering to dry off, and Carter gets Connor up against the headboard, big hands pining his shoulders there. He goes breathless when Carter settles across his lap and oh god, Connor starts to remember what Carter’s body looks like compared to his own.

Yeah, the firm swell of Carter’s chest is quite fucking intimidating this close. Connor blindly feels around for a sheet, starts trying to tug it over the softness of his stomach. “I'm sorry, I know I'm not built like you.”

Carter places a hand on his. “Stop that. You’re perfect, I love it.” Carter leans in and kisses him, then presses a slow trail down his chest, lingers around his belly, presses little biting kisses to his hips. Carter hasn’t broken eye contact yet. It’s intoxicating and Connor can’t take it anymore. He closes his eyes, tipping his head back and relaxing into the sensations, feeling like he’s nothing more than soft putty under Carter's hands.

Carter’s being so methodical with every caress, every _touch_ that he’s had to have wanted this for at least a little while. Connor wishes that he knew how long they could have had this together, how long he was wasting time with Anna when he could have been with _Carter_.

Their eyes lock as Carter laves kisses along Connor’s inner thigh and Connor can’t imagine ever wanting anything more from someone than what he can see there. Not even if he lives a hundred more years.

“You’re beautiful,” Carter hums from his place down at Connor’s pelvic line. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“N-no,” Connor replies. He wishes that he could get a palm on his dick, relieve some pressure, because this is--

Carter takes Connor’s dick in his mouth. Swallows him straight down, and it’s more than Connor ever even dared imagine.

Carter is a fucking pro, that’s how good this is, and Connor is jealous of every other person who got to have this before him. It’s amazing, though. The way that his mouth does that thing, and how his tongue runs across the little vein on his…

Fuck. Connor is already too close. Again.

“C-Carter, no, wait. Together, I--”

Carter looks up at him, and the sight of him looking up with his mouth still full of Connor’s dick is too much. He comes so hard that he curls towards Carter with it.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I wanted to--”

“It’s okay,” Carter starts, slinking up Connor’s body. He swipes his thumb at the corner of his lips, sucking it quickly into his mouth. “So long as you liked it and let me just…” His hand is reaching for his dick and his face is heading for Connor’s neck and that’s not what he wants at all.

“No, c’mere, I want you to...” Connor trails off, guides Carter’s face towards his own.

“You just came in my mouth, Connor.”

“I don’t care. Just let me get my mouth and hands on you,” Connor whines, tugging on Carter.

“Okay, gorgeous, okay.” He presses their lips together just before Connor folds his fingers around his dick. He swallows the most beautiful little sound from Carter, deepening the kiss, drawing out his strokes, trying every single thing that he knows that he likes, wanting this to be good for--

Carter bites Connor’s bottom lip, tenses, and comes.

Connor looks down at his chest as Carter collapses next to him, starts drawing patterns in the mess there.   

“Keep that up and we’re going to be back at it in about a minute and a half,” Carter drawls.

Connor looks over at him. He looks...happy. There’s this looseness to his body that Connor doesn’t think he’s ever seen in his entire life. He did that.

And he wants to do it again and again and again.

“There’s worse things than having sex all night,” Connor says with a grin. Carter groans, pulling him back into a kiss.


	8. Then - Carter

Carter won’t be kissing or dancing or spending the night with anyone, but prom is in two days and he wants to use the money he’s saved up to get a suit. A decent one.

So he and Pudge are standing outside Brodeur’s, the town’s only tailor shop. There’s no bell on the door when Carter steps inside, nothing at all to announce they’re there. The shop is empty except for a long wall of suits and baskets of multicolored yarn mixed in with silk ties. Carter doesn’t get it, but he’s probably just not fancy enough.

He spots a tie he likes, a classic deep blue. He flips over the price tag and grimaces.

“I don’t know if you should blow your savings on this, Carter.” Pudge picks up a ball of puke yellow yarn, tossing it between his palms.

“I saved it for a dance, what’s it matter if it’s this one instead of the last?”

“Do you really want to see him there with her?” Pudge asks.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Carter hurries out as his heart gives a painful pang. He’s never talked about Connor with anyone, never said the way he feels out loud. There’s no way Pudge really knows about this.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot, man.”

Carter deflates, turning his back on Pudge. He fiddles with a belt as he considers his next words. “I just,” he starts. “I don’t want to go my whole life without going to a dance. Even if I don’t dance with anyone, at least I went.”

“Okay, Carter, fine.” Pudge sighs.

“Can I help you boys?” A tall, gaunt man circles a table of dress shirts in the back of the store, smoothing them as he passes.

“I was lookin’ for a suit,” Carter says. “For the big dance this weekend.”

The man softens as much as he can, small smile breaking out across his face. “You came to the right place. What’s your name, son?”

“Carter.”

“I’m Mr. Martel, let us find you something nice.”

Carter’s nervous trying on the range of coats Mr. Martel brings to the dressing room. He hates the plaid and feels like white (even though the black lapels are sharp) isn’t the right choice either. The navy jacket is too slim and the charcoal grey doesn’t look good.

“Your friend picked this one,” the shop owner says, hanging a classic black jacket on the dressing room hook. “I agree with him.”

Carter trades the grey for black and turns to look at himself. At first glance, it’s simple. It’s the suit you’re supposed to own. It fits his shoulders and buttons nicely. The lapels look a little shiny and Carter has to step closer to the mirror to get a better look.

Pairs of crescent moon shapes interlock all down the front, a parade of black satin c’s gleaming in the overhead lights.

It’s perfect.

Carter steps out of the dressing room to find Pudge sitting on the bench in wait. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks, bud.”

Mr. Martel circles him, smoothing the material over his shoulders and down to his wrists. “It looks like a good fit,” he says. “We can dock some of the price since it won’t require any tailoring. We should have matching pants in your size.”

“So that’s the winner?” Pudge asks when Carter turns to a mirror.

“Yeah, it’s…”

“You should get the blue tie,” he says, appearing in the mirror over Carter’s shoulder. “It’s your favorite color.”

Carter knows he has a perfectly usable striped clip-on tie already in his closet. It’d look just fine with the black. “You think?”

Pudge disappears and comes back with said tie, draping it in front of Carter’s neck. “I think.”

“Thirty percent off a tie when you buy a suit,” Mr. Martel adds, arms laden with pants.

“Sold,” Carter says.

 

//

 

“Well, that’s about as good as you’re gonna get,” Carter says to his reflection. The top few buttons of his white shirt are still undone and he doesn’t actually know how to do a tie, so he rolls it up nicely to shove in his pocket as he heads down the stairs.

He still needs a boutonniere.

Carter makes his way out behind the house, where all sorts of flowers grow wild. He picks a couple that look pretty enough, something purple, a yellow one, and a white. He brings them inside and ties them together with a small bit of ribbon, pinning it to his left lapel.

He looked it up on the school computer the other day.

Okay, _now_ he’s as good as he’s going to get. “You can do this, you _can_.”  


Carter thanks Mrs. Erne for dropping him off at the school and straightens his jacket as he heads toward the auditorium. He skips the photo booth and the happy couples waiting in line. Bypassing the dancefloor, he starts scanning the tables for the person he’s looking for.

“Carter!” A familiar voice shouts from his left. “Bro! I’m so glad you came!” Connor pulls him into a hug, claps him on the back. “Didn’t think I’d see you here since you didn’t come to Homecoming.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get the date I wanted so I didn’t go.” He forces a smile. “But I couldn’t miss prom, right?”

“Well, yeah, it’s the party of the-- Hold on. Where is your tie?”

“Uh, in my pocket because I don’t know how to--”

“Give it to me,” he says, making grabby hands. Connor has _that tone,_ so Carter knows that it isn’t even worth the fight. He reaches into his pocket and holds out the rich blue fabric.

“That’s better.” Connor snatches it out of his hand, stepping close so they nearly chest to chest. It should be illegal, the way it takes Carter’s breath away, but--

“Hey, wait, when’d you get those eyebrows?” Carter asks, noticing the perfectly arched brows that may have appeared overnight.

“Shut up,” Connor replies. His face colors even though he doesn’t look away from his task.

“No, really, they’re. Jesus, Connor. They’re perfect.” Carter reaches out and runs his thumb over one.

Connor startles and jerks Carter closer by his tie, meets his eyes.

“Since when? How?”

“Well, y’know, sometimes perfection takes time,” Connor replies weakly.

Carter opens his mouth to tell him that he’s always been perfect, but suddenly Anna is there. Tapping her foot, even. She’s wearing blue, too, and Carter hates it.

“God, Carter, how long is that tie going take?” Anna’s frowning. “Some of us are ready to dance.”

“Right, uh. There’s your tie, then.” Connor snugs the knot against Carter’s throat and quickly flattens it. “I’ll be back in a song.”

“Or two or five!” Anna adds.

Carter settles at the table Connor and his friends claimed and watches them dance for a couple of songs. He would be more annoyed, but it definitely looks like they might be arguing instead of enjoying it, which is kind of interesting.

But not interesting enough that Carter doesn’t decide to go get some punch.

There’s a little cluster of people around the bowl, so he waits his turn for the ladle, turning a plastic cup over and over in his hands. He tugs at the knot of his tie, loosening it ever so slightly.

“Pour me one, too?” a soft, southern drawl asks.

Carter smiles at Sandy Shewmaker and ladles some punch into her cup.

“Thanks, Carter.” Her eyelashes are ridiculously long and she’s got a little bit of lipstick on her front tooth.

“No problem.” He moves to escape back to the table but Sandy grabs him, her manicured nails digging in through his jacket.

“I hear you came alone.”

Carter debates the merits of lying. “I did.”

She giggles and leans in closer. “Fancy that, so did I.”

It’d be easy to go with it, to let her drag him onto the dancefloor and act like he’s having a good time. He could fit his hands to her hips and maybe get a little bit of her lipstick on his cheek.

It’d be so easy. But when they fuck does he ever want easy.

“You look real nice tonight,” he says. “But I’m just gonna hang out with the boys.”

Sandy huffs. “Suit yourself.”

So Carter spends the next hour or so drinking too much punch and watching a lot of couples happily dance together. Except Connor and Anna, who seem to be dancing angrily together. Carter almost wants to try and find out what’s going on, but also, maybe that’s their business.

Maybe they’ll break up, and wouldn’t that be a gas?

He feels like shit as soon as the thought crosses his mind, because he wants Connor happy, he really does.

It isn’t Connor’s fault that Carter isn’t what he wants, and he just needs to remember that.

He sighs, looking down at his empty cup. He guesses it’s time for another trip to the punch bowl, do another lap around the room. Maybe someone else will come up to him, proposition him for the night. Maybe he’d accept.

There’s no one at the punch bowl this time, almost everyone either on the dancefloor or off in a dark corner trying to sneak away from the chaperone’s eye. He doesn’t see Connor on the dancefloor anymore and tries not to think about which dark spot he picked.

Pudge was right, he shouldn’t have come.

“So,” Carter jumps at the sound of Connor’s voice. “I rented a room tonight. You should come.”

“I should come?” Carter raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t know much about this sort of thing, but he has a pretty good idea what’s supposed to go on in a hotel room after prom.

“Yeah, I brought my XBOX so we can play video games.”

“O-okay.” He isn’t sure Anna will be on board with this plan, but Carter’s never been able to say no to spending time with Connor, so.

“Great! Lemme go get Anna so we can head over.”

Carter’s eyes follow Connor across the room to where Anna is holding court. She seems happy when she looks up at Connor, but that quickly fades the longer Connor talks. She says something short to him and then Connor returns, alone.

“She wants to stay and see who the king and queen are.”

“So, we’re gonna wait? I’ll get more punch.” Carter stands, reaching for his cup.

“Hell no, let’s just go. I don’t care about that shit.” Connor grabs his hand. “She can just catch up later, let’s go.”

Carter doesn’t look at Connor’s hand in his, but he feels it in every inch of his body. “D-don’t you wanna know who it is? What if you win?”

“I don’t care about it.” Connor repeats, shaking his head with a laugh.

“I think your new eyebrows would be disappointed to miss it,” Carter teases.

“Man, shut the hell up about my eyebrows,” Connor says with another little chuckle. “C’ _mon_.” His laughter is infectious as he pulls Carter out of the hall.  


They’ve been playing the latest and greatest football game for about half an hour when Anna stomps into the room, greeting them with, “Do you know how embarrassed I would have been if you’d been named king and weren’t there?”

“Shyeah, like there was any way I was going to be named prom king,” Connor scoffs without looking away from the screen.

“How do you know you weren’t?” Anna demands.

Connor pauses the game, rolls his eyes dramatically towards her. “Are you trying to tell me that I was named prom king over Nolan 'Golden Boy' Valleau?”

“Well, no, but--”

“And were you queen?”

“No. I just--”

“Okay, then,” Connor starts to turn back towards the TV.

“Can I talk to you outside for a minute, Connor?”

He sighs. “I’ll be right back,” he says to Carter, dropping the controller onto the bed.

Carter can’t hear what they’re saying after the door closes. They aren’t yelling, but he can tell that they’re both getting increasingly more angry. He doesn’t know if he should leave, or, well, no. He wouldn’t be able to leave without walking right past them, and there’s no way that wouldn’t make the situation even worse.

So he sits there for about five minutes, feeling awkward and worried about someone calling the front desk, even if they aren’t being that loud. He’s relieved when Connor slips back through the door alone.

“She left,” Connor grabs his controller, throwing himself back down.

“Is everything okay?” Carter asks. He really hopes that it isn’t, but he can put on a face. It’s what he’s supposed to do, right?

“Whatever, let’s just play, okay?”

“Yeah sure.” Carter nods, hitting the pause button.

“Tell me something true.” Carter says after ten minutes of perfectly companionable silence. He nudges Connor with his shoulder.

“I’m glad you aren’t alone tonight,” Connor replies.

Carter can’t help the small, happy smile that blooms on his lips. A little kernel of hope buries itself under his ribs, glowing bright each time Connor’s elbow brushes against his own.


	9. Interlude - Adam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter today, but back to two on Friday :)

Adam can’t sit still while the movie plays. He keeps picking at his fingers or crossing and uncrossing his feet where they’re propped on the table. Cory’s leaned up against his side, large popcorn bowl in his lap. He’s quiet as Adam wiggles around, restless.

There’s a big action scene, guns blazing and people shouting. Adam loves these parts of movies but he can’t focus, his mind in a totally different place.

Cory sits up and mutes the movie. “What has you so bothered?” he asks, face looking serious before he smirks. “And not in the good way, either.”

Adam sighs. “I’m just worried about Carter. “I know he’s a grown man and all, but it’s just…” He shakes his head, feels himself getting tense. “It’s been almost a month and Carter isn’t going to be careful, I know he isn’t, and he’s always--”

“Hey, calm down.” Cory takes his hand, which is balled into a fist, and strokes it gently until he relaxes.

“Thanks, I know I shouldn’t let this work me up, but he’s been brokenhearted over Connor since we were seniors in high school, and I’m worried that he’s going to cling to this thing they’re doin’, not caring how much it will hurt him in the end.”

“Why are you so sure that it will hurt him?” Cory asks.

“Because…” Adam indicates between Cory and himself a couple of times.

“Because of us?” Cory squints at him. “What do we have to do with it? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, not us specifically, but, y’know, how someone will come from St. Louis for Connor. Like Braydon did for Slater, an’ Yanni for Jake. Like _you_ did for me.”

“I don’t think that’s really a thing, sweets,” Cory smiles slowly. “I don’t love you because I came here from St. Louis. But if you’re really worried, maybe you should talk to him?”.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Adam stands, checks his pockets for his wallet and phone. “I think he’s at home now, I’ll head over.”

“You’re going _now_? We’re in the middle of a movie!”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know. But I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He leans down to press a lingering kiss to Cory’s lips.

“Only if you promise.”

“I promise.”

Cory stays on the couch as Adam slips back into his boots he left by the door. He considers texting Carter, just to be sure, but an element of surprise will probably do him some good.

“Remember when I was jealous because I thought you guys were a thing?” Cory asks, laughing under his breath.

“Totally ridiculous.” Adam grins at him, lets it go a little lopsided. “You should have been worried about Tony, if anyone. He’s more my type.”

“I thought _I_ was your type.” He puts on a little huff, crosses his arms.

Adam can’t help but chuckle at the way he furrows his brow, crinkling up right between the eyes. “You tick all the boxes, babe. Don’t worry.”

Cory immediately softens, his face slipping toward smug. His eyes settle into fond. “Just as long as you don’t have a this same ‘longing for your best friend’ schtick.”

“Aww, don’t worry. Tony’s my type in hair and eyes only, and I’m not his type at all. We’d never work.”

“I don’t understand any of these small town politics.” Cory scrunches his face. It’s adorable.

“This isn’t really politics.” Adam pauses, reconsiders. “Well, maybe.” He goes back over to the couch just to plant another kiss to Cory’s lips. “Be back later.”

“Love you.”

“Love ya back.”  

He trots down the wooden stairs behind the Bar and climbs up into his Chevy parked illegally next to the dumpster. He’s nervous on the ride back home, not sure what he can say to Carter that will make any difference. He knows he has to try, though, because he can’t handle another round of pulling Carter out of his depression when Connor breaks his heart again.

He’s glad to see Carter’s truck parked in the drive and pulls up right next to it. He finds Carter coming down the stairs and snaps the door closed behind him. Adam immediately notices the way he’s all gussied up, and yep, he’s definitely on his way out.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Uh.” Carter looks like he’s going to say no, like the word is right on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah. Sure, I guess.”

“Why don’t you come have a seat?” Adam settles onto the couch, pats the spot next to him.

Carter sighs, but drops down next to him without a fight. “So, what’s up?”

“I think we really need to talk about this Connor thing and how you maybe shouldn’t be doing it?” Damn, he didn’t want it to be a question, but too late now. He’s expecting a fight from Carter, but he sort of just deflates.

“This is my only chance to have him, though,” Carter says.

Adam steels himself. He’s gotta say it. Carter needs to hear it. “Do you really have him?” He hates seeing the way that Carter winces at the question, but he’s so tired of his brother hurting because he loves Connor Ingram.

“I know that I don’t mean anything to him, not the same way he means to me, anyway. I get that I’m just his fill in, but Pudge, I…” Carter looks down at his hands, studies them as he quietly adds, “I get to pretend for a while that he _does_ want me the way that I want him, and that’s what I’m going to need to hold onto to keep going when his Cory gets here.”

“You don’t feel like you’re torturing yourself with this?”

“I feel like he wants me right now when it seemed like he never would, so I’m not really worrying myself with the hows or whys.”

“But it isn’t _real_ ,” Adam tries, needing Carter to realize what he’s saying. Needing Carter to get it.

“It feels real when he kisses me, when he holds my hand and smiles at me. It’s real _right now,_  and that’s honestly enough.”

“You keep saying that it’s enough, but is it really?” Adam places a hand on Carter’s shoulder. He’s expecting him to shake if off, but he just sags even more.

“If I knew of a way to stop loving him, I would have ages ago.” Carter sighs. “If I could snap my fingers and stop, I would. But no one gets to pick their One or change them when they aren’t wanted back. Believe me, I’ve tried to stop loving him.” He pauses. “But maybe this will help me get over him.”

“Are you sure that you aren’t hoping that he’ll realize what he’s missing out on and pick you over his coincidence?”

“Could be a bit of both, Pudge. You know what they say about hope.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again when he’s--” Adam stops himself from finishing the sentence, from saying the words ‘he’s done with you’ out loud.

Seems like Carter knows what he means, anyway.

“I won’t be any more hurt than I usually am,” Carter says. He smiles and it’s so sad that it kinda breaks Adam’s heart.

“Carter-”

“I need to get going. Sorry, I’m running late.” He pastes on that smile that everyone around town gets to see all the time. “Hope you have fun with Cory tonight,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. Adam guesses their talk is over.

“Yeah, uh, have a great night, man.”

“You too,” Carter says, already halfway to the door.

“Well, shit,” Adam mutters to himself once the door closes. He pulls out his phone and texts Cory.

_That could have gone better._


	10. Now - Carter

God, Carter loves this. He can’t get enough, but he knows that Pudge is right, that he’s just...making things worse for himself. He _knows_ that Connor is going to find someone, and they’re going to move into this cottage of Connor’s that’s almost bigger than his and Pudge’s whole house, and he’s going to be heartbroken again.

There’s a little voice in his head that’s screaming, begging, crying for him to listen to Pudge. That maybe he was right. Maybe if he stops this now, it won’t hurt as bad when it happens.

Connor snuggles into his side, smiling up at him as he threads their fingers together, giving a little squeeze, and who is he kidding? There’s no way that he has the willpower to give this up one second before he has to.

Carter tugs on Connor until he’s situated, straddled over Carter’s thighs. Connor smiles down at him, running fingers into Carter’s hair, leaning in and kissing him. It’s soft at first, Connor taking the lead and tilting Carter just so. But Connor deepens it quickly, like he’s starving for anything Carter can give him. Everything is heavy, a bit frenzied, and Carter’s lost in it.

Connor breaks this kiss, presses his forehead to Carter’s. His breath is short when he mutters, “Carter, I want us to...I want _you_.”

“What do you want?” Carter asks, pulling Connor down by his hips, thrusting upward. “This?”

Connor sits back and looks down at him with eyes that are wide and dark, darker than usual. “Yes, that. All of...I want, _please_.”

Connor leads Carter from the couch and into his room. He throws himself down on the bed, pulls Carter on top of him. Carter braces himself on his elbows, fits his lips to the space behind Connor’s ear and down along his jaw. He’s nuzzling into Connor’s soft beard when Connor’s fingers start working on Carter’s shirt, tugging it up to his shoulders. Carter wants this so much, but also, Connor is looking a little wild-eyed and nervous and he never wants to push Connor, so he pulls back, slows down, brushes a finger across one of Connor’s pink cheeks. He quietly prompts, “Tell me something true.”

Connor licks his lips, considering. “I'm glad that it's you, and I want...I mean, I don’t want to--” he stops, his eyes dropping closed as he takes a nervous, shaky breath.

“Hey, you can tell me anything, you know,” Carter says softly, pecking the tip of Connor’s nose.

Connor relaxes. “I don’t want to use a condom.” Connor’s eyes have softened when they blink back open.

“You only get that first once, Connor,” Carter says, a flood of heat rushing straight to his gut. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to, _of course_ he wants this with Connor, more than anything, but what if Connor regrets giving it to him when he finds his St. Louis Love?

“That’s what I want! A first with you!” Connor’s face falls. “Unless you’ve already--”

“No, I haven’t!” Carter drops to an elbow again, cups Connor’s jaw, studies his face. “It’s just, you know, that’s for someone special.”

“I know,” Connor replies, his smile returning when he pulls Carter back in, pressing lube into his hand. And Carter thinks, as he deepens the kiss, maybe being the ‘first time’ footnote in Connor's story is enough. He can make this good, he can do this for Connor.

He can love Connor the exact way he wants to this once.

Connor opens up beautifully, so easily, on Carter’s slick fingers. “God, it’s like you were made for this.”

“You think I never--” Connor cuts off, arches his back with a little groan. “You think I haven’t ever laid here and did this while thinking of--” Carter changes his angle and Connor gasps, his body going taut.

Carter is relieved that he won’t have to hear whoever Connor thought of. He can’t handle that, not right now. Not when Connor clenches down so tight around his fingers, cries out when Carter finds that spot inside him that lights him up. “D’you thi-- Are you ready?” Carter asks between kisses to Connor’s thigh.

“Y-yeah, I’m.” Connor’s throat clicks when he swallows. “I’m ready, please. T-take what’s yours.”

Connor’s words go right to Carter’s dick. “God, Connor,” he whines. He goes so slow when he lines up and pushes in. He wants to hold out as long as he can, wants to make Connor fall apart in his arms, but he’s so hot and slick inside.

He has to kiss him, to taste Connor's sweet little whines on his tongue. Connor arches into him, moans so quietly, squeezes at Carter's hips as he pulls him closer, deeper. Carter goes where Connor puts him, covers him completely, lets Connor find a spot along his neck to latch on to.

It's Carter's turn to moan, because there's nothing he's ever wanted more than to be able to show everyone that he's Connor's, and now he will. At least until the mark fades. “God, I want you so much,” he mutters.

Connor replies on his skin, “Want you too.”

Carter’s heart speeds up, wants to beat right out of his chest at the words. He knows that Connor means right now, that he’s just in the moment, but hearing it, even this once, means the world.

And he’s right there at the edge, everything so much better than any fantasy he's ever thought up, and Connor begs for his hand, a soft chant of, “Touch me, touch me, touch me.” Carter does, keeping his rhythm steady as Connor pulls him down into a bruising kiss.

It’s instant, the way the buildup suddenly crests. He comes and Connor is coming with him and it's, it's...he doesn't care how cliche it might be, because he doesn’t have any words for how _perfect_ it is.

He wants to stay in this one moment forever and never leave.

Connor lets him, cradling Carter’s head against his chest. Their breathing slows and Carter listens to Connor’s heart until it stops racing. _I love you_ , he thinks. He’d never say it, especially not now, but he thinks it, traces the letters across Connor’s ribs. They have to pull apart, untangle arms and legs. Connor tips his head towards Carter, smiles as he plays with Carter's hair. He runs a hand down Carter's jawline, to the dip below his lips. Carter catches the hand, presses a kiss to it. When Connor finally says something, it's a quiet, “Wow.”

Carter glances at the window, sees that it’s gone completely dark outside. “I should probably head home, I guess,” he says, even though he isn’t ready to leave this bed yet.

“Or, you could stay,” Connor replies, rolling back towards him. “We could shower and strip the bed.” He grins, looking cheeky. “And then maybe see where the rest of the night takes us?”

“You really want me to stay?” Carter’s voice sounds small and Connor looks confused.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He tangles their hands together, tugs Carter closer. “Why would I ever want you to leave?”

Carter wants those words engraved, wants them tattooed on his body right over his heart. “Well, when you put it like that.” Carter pulls Connor into another kiss, his mind made up. There is no way he’s leaving Connor's side until that asshole from St Louis shows up, whoever they are.


	11. Then - Anna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some dub con. A character doesn't say no out loud, but his body language is definitely not saying yes and the other character disregards that. It is _not_ in the main pairing. The incident in question happens in passing and not a theme of the story, so we didn't tag for it. 
> 
> Please see the end notes if you want specifics before reading.

“How could you be such an asshole? What were you even thinking bringing him here?” Anna hisses at Connor before the door has even pulled all the way closed. “It’s prom night and you not only left me, but you invited someone to the hotel room?!”

“He was alone, what was I supposed to do?”

“He _chose_ to come alone, you should have just left him instead of _me_!”

“He’s my best friend, Anna, and he was alone and sad. I’m sorry if you don’t get why he’s important to me, but he is.” Connor crosses his arms and she hates how good he looks right now, sticking up for someone else.

“You know what? I’m just going to go.” She pulls off her corsage, throws it at his feet. “Guess I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Sure, bye, whatever,” Connor says. He kicks the flower up against the wall when he turns to go back inside.

She waits at the end of the hall for a beat, hoping to hear the door open again, to hear Connor call for her. Nothing comes.

Anna jabs the elevator button, hands shaking with rage.

She’s holding back tears by the time she climbs into a cab at the front of the hotel. Her voice cracks when she gives them Connor’s address, but the driver is polite enough not to say anything.

He gets a hefty tip for it when they arrive.

“What are you doing here?” Mama Ingram asks when she opens the door. “Shouldn’t you still be at prom?”

“Oh, Mama, it was terrible.” Anna throws herself into Mama Ingram’s arms. “Connor left me to hang out with Carter and, and...he didn’t even care about me at all!” She chokes around a sob. “It was _prom_!” She pulls back, wiping at her face, not caring about how it smears her make-up. “I’m gonna break up with him, this is--”

“Now, now. Let’s not be hasty. Come sit down and have some tea, we’ll talk about this and figure out a way to make it all better.”

Anna is hesitant, but follows after her.

“Here, I have your favorite,” Mama Ingram says, holding out a box of tea and placing a small teapot down in front of her.

“Thank you,” Anna says, pouring the water. She’s quiet as she bounces the bag, watching the little waves that it makes while it steeps.

“Anna, sweetie, you know you’re like the daughter I never had,” Mama Ingram starts.

“Yeah, you make me feel like…” She trails off, she doesn’t want to say anything about her own mama, who really does try, she’s just never there when Anna needs her. And Connor’s mama always is. “I feel like family when I’m here.”

“You _are_ family, Anna.” She smiles, which always walks the line between friendly and unnerving. “And I know that Connor was disappointing tonight, but give me the chance to speak with him in the morning. I’ll send him over to speak with you. I’ll fix this all up, okay?”

“Um, I guess?” Anna isn’t sure what she could say to Connor that will change anything, but she really does like the Ingrams. She trusts his mama.

“Perfect!” She claps her hands together. “Let’s get you some makeup wipes and I’ll take you home.”

Anna dutifully follows Mama Ingram to the small bathroom at the front of the house. She wipes away her mascara and smudged lipstick. Some of the glitter from her eyeshadow sticks to her skin.

Her eyes are red from all the tears but her hair is still perfectly curled and she tucks it behind her ears, standing up a little straighter.

“You ready?”

Anna takes a deep breath and nods.

“Good girl,” Mama Ingram says, herding her out the front door and down the walk.  

Connor is pale when he shows up the next morning, tail tucked firmly between his legs. Anna wants to ask him about it, but he’s already apologizing, saying that he knows that he’s been a terrible boyfriend, that he’ll be better if she just gives him the chance.

“I’m sorry,” he finishes, hanging his head.

“Okay.” Anna’s a little worried about him, doesn’t think she’s ever seen him so meek.

His smile at her acceptance looks genuine and a little relieved. She wants to reach up and cup his jaw, parse out the nuances of it but she doesn’t get the chance.

“I’ve, uh, I should get home. To do some chores ‘nd stuff.” He kisses her on the cheek before he departs.

What a suddenly perfect gentleman.

//

She invites Connor over the day after her eighteenth birthday. It’s mid-June and the nights are starting to heat up, the barest hint of a chill still hanging on.

She’s wearing her prettiest undergarments, the only ones that match, and she’s going to. They’re going to.

There’s a knock at the door and Connor’s standing there with a bouquet of spring flowers. He’s quiet as he steps into the house, still as perfect a gentleman as he can be.

She doesn’t want to waste anymore time and she takes the flowers before pulling him into a kiss. “Hi,” he says against his lips.

“H-hi.”

“We’ve got the house to ourselves tonight. Mama’s workin’ late.”

Connor swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing noticeably.

Her bedroom isn’t far and she leads him firmly by the hand, pushing him down to the bed. She straddles him as he leans up to kiss her. She pulls off her little chamois dress and tosses it aside. Connor looks surprised when she looks down at him, but it’s alright, she can help this along. First times can be scary.

She places his hands on her waist, feels him rub circles onto her skin with his thumbs. Everything is slow and hesitant, frustratingly so. Connor fumbles putting on the condom and she almost snatches it from him to do it herself.

They’re quiet, Connor burying his face in her hair. He doesn’t say a thing through it, neither of them do. Not until they’re both flat on their backs, spent.

Connor sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I should, uh, I’ve gotta go.”

She watches him get dressed, covering himself quickly. She pulls the sheet up to her chin.

“Happy birthday, Anna.”

She sees the flowers on her dresser, little pink buds and baby’s breath, and throws them in the trash on the way to the bathroom.

  
  
  
She meets a couple of girlfriends at the diner the next day. They spend the whole meal giggling over it. Anna makes the night sound better than it was, but she knows that it’s normal to fib on the details.

She’s just paid her check and is heading for the front door when she’s stopped by Carter Verhaeghe, of all people. He’s holding a plastic bin full of dirty dishes, and Anna can’t believe he’s bussing tables.

“Hey, did I hear that you and Connor, you...um...” He trails off and swallows.

Anna wonders how he’s ever going to have sex if he can’t even talk about it. “Yeah, last night,” she answers brightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “First time, it was amazing!”

His face does this complicated thing where about a hundred emotions pass over it before it sags in defeat, maybe, like her and Connor having sex is the worst thing that he could have ever heard and that’s when Anna realizes.

Carter is _in love_ with Connor.

And this news is the last of his hope drying up and blowing away.

Well, she’s sorry, but it isn’t her fault that Connor doesn’t want him. And anyway, she has a family now, and no one is taking it from her. Especially not someone like Carter.

He turns and walks away without another word, heading straight into the back.

The sound of shattering plates the moment the swinging door closes behind him lets her know that maybe she should be leaving now.  

//

The rec center is full on Wednesday night, each row of tables covered over with various sizes and shapes of women and their brightly colored daubers.

It’s the perfect place, surrounded by hundreds of ears just waiting to catch wind of the next scandal.

“So, I was in town the other day,” Anna starts innocently, daubing mindlessly at her numbers as the caller announces them, “and I noticed Carter Verhaeghe with another new person. Isn’t it weird how he seems to date a new person every single day? I swear, he’s worse than that Johnson boy these days.” She raises her hand when her winning number shows in the camera. “Did anyone else notice that?”

“No, I hadn’t.” Mama Ingram replies, frowning at Anna’s raised hand. “Do you think that he’s sleeping around?”

“I-21,” the caller says.

“Bingo!” Anna calls out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anna decides that she and Connor should have sex, and Connor is quite hesitant and not at all enthusiastic, but he doesn't ever verbally say no.


	12. Now - Connor

Connor’s got his head pillowed on Carter’s chest, drawing shapes on the palm of Carter’s hand, along his wrist, up his forearm until goosebumps prickle the skin. They’re on the couch, video games and TV long forgotten. They’ve been snuggled together for hours as the breeze rattles the leaves that have collected on the ground outside.

Carter exhales softly, Connor’s head rocks gently with the motion.

Connor pokes him in the arm. “You know, it isn’t that I don’t enjoy laying around here at home, away from all the nosy people because believe me I do,” he starts with a grin. “But rumor has it that there’s a bowling alley in town.”

“Huh?” Carter looks down at him.

“Don’t you think that maybe we should go out and do something?”

“What? You wanna go out?” Carter blinks a couple of times. He looks confused and it’s adorable.

“Yes.”

“You. Wanna go out. On a bowling date. With me?”

“Who else would I want to go with?” Connor laughs, shoos Carter towards the bathroom. “Go, get ready. Freshen up, and I’ll make the calls.”

“Freshen up?” Carter mutters to himself as he goes.

“You heard me!” Connor grins after him for a second, then picks up his phone. 

  


“Okay, how’s this?” Carter asks when he steps out twenty minutes later.

Jesus Christ, Connor is going to choke on his tongue. Carter looks so damn good in those painted on jeans and that button down with almost half the buttons left undone. And uh, shit. He’s even wearing that one faded ball cap that Connor loves so much. Connor’s eyes trail down Carter’s body.

He even shined his boots? He’s going to be the death of Connor.

“Wow, Carter. You look.” Connor swallows slowly, still trying to get over the lump in his throat. “Amazing.”

“Aww, shucks.” Carter waves a dismissive hand even as his blush gives him away. “I bet you say that to all the cowboys.”

“Nah.” Connor saunters up to him, pushes his hat bill back, leans in. “Just the really fucking hot ones,” he says before pressing a gentle kiss to Carter’s lips. “C’mon, let’s go before I don’t let you leave.”

“I wouldn’t have any issue with that,” Carter replies.

“Everyone I called probably would.”

“Okay, fine.” Carter sighs dramatically. “But we aren’t taking your truck.”

“What’s wrong with my truck?” Connor asks, pulling a hand to his chest, mock-offended.

“I’d just rather take Sierra, that’s all,” Carter replies.

“First of all, it is still cheating to name your truck its model name.” Connor shakes his head.

“Well, it’s about ten years too late to change it.” Carter’s smile is slow, lazy even. “What’s second?”

“Cece is behind your truck so I have to get into it anyway.”

“Fine.” Carter huffs. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Connor absolutely ignores the look of annoyance on Carter’s face when they climb into his truck. Except he doesn’t, because it’s totally hilarious.

“Hey, why do you name all your trucks the same thing?” Carter asks when Connor puts it into reverse.

“Did you only just notice?” Connor asks, throwing his arm over the seat to look over his shoulder.

“Guess I never thought about it before.”

“I just like the name,” Connor smirks, puts Cece in gear. “I’m attached to it.”

“That’s fair enough,” Carter replies, leaning forward to fiddle with the radio. Connor throws the truck into drive, then slips his arm around Carter right when Cole Swindell starts singin’ about it.

 

  
“Did you invite everyone we know?” Carter asks when they walk into Thunder Alley.

“Nah, just the ones we like,” Connor replies.

“So, where’s Witty, then?”

“Him and Ms Witty are busy tonight,” Slater interrupts. He wiggles his eyebrows as he adds, “If you know what I mean.”

“Well, I sure didn’t want to,” Carter groans.

“You say that like you don’t ever have sex,” Jake crosses his arms. He looks sort of pissy but Connor doesn’t know why.

“Why would me having sex mean I want to think about other people doin’ it?” Carter asks.

Jake’s face goes a little dark right as Yanni appears of nowhere.“We should get two lanes, yes?” He grabs Jake by the hand. “We’ll get that started and you guys order the food.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re both size eleven,” Connor says, pulling Carter towards the snack bar to order pizza and beer. He slips a hand in Carter’s back pocket as they join the line.

Carter bites his lip, cheeks blushing the faintest pink. Perfect.

  
  


The first thing Connor notices when he looks up from tying his gross shoes is that Carter’s staring off into space looking sad. Well, no. He’s looking at Matt and Mitchell, who showed up about five minutes after they did and are being ridiculous in the next lane over. Matt jumps on Mitchell’s back and they rush for the line, clearly having a blast. The ball Matt throws goes straight in the gutter and Connor watches in horror as Mitchell dumps Matt onto the scoring console.

Anyway, they remind him of Carter and himself, actually. Connor doesn’t get why Carter looks so sad.

“Hey, you’re up, Carter,” Braydon says from his spot in front of the scoring cards.

“Uh, so. I don’t actually know how to bowl,” Carter admits. He’s all flushed again, and Connor just wants to hurry him off somewhere and make out with him like a teenager. There’s plenty of dusty corners in this place.

But this was his idea, so.

“I’ll help you,” Connor says, standing into an exaggerated stretch.

“You actually know how to keep score, darlin’?” Slater is asking as Connor takes Carter’s hand and pulls him up to the ball return. He doesn’t get to hear the answer, but that’s okay, because he’s busy helping Carter pick a ball and leading him to the head of the lane. It feels like their own little world as he nudges Carter into position.

“Okay, so, first of all, you have to square yourself to the lane.” Connor places his hand on Carter’s hips, making sure that he’s centered. Connor cuddles up behind him, wrapping his arms around Carter and reaching for the ball.

“You hold it like this,” he says, guiding Carter’s hands, helping him slip his fingers into the proper holes. “And you line your throw up with the arrows.” He nuzzles into Carter's neck, pressing a gentle kiss to it before he adds, “And try to keep your wrist straight. Got all of that?”

“I honestly didn’t get one bit of that,” Carter replies. Connor chuckles and Carter relaxes into him.

“I’ll help you, then.” They throw the ball together and Carter hits eight pins. Connor rewards him with a kiss before his name is called to get the pizza.

“Hey, I’ll go with you,” Slater offers, jumping up.

Carter goes back to the ball return to wait for his orange ball to spit out and Connor heads toward the counter.

“Jesus, finally with you two,” Slater says, nudging him as they walk.

“What do you mean, finally?” Connor asks as they arrive at the counter. He gives the kid his name and gets an extra large pepperoni pizza in return.

Slater rolls his eyes, spinning the pitcher of beer around so he can grab the handle.

“You and Verhaeghe finally get together?” Mitchell asks, appearing next to them before Slater can elaborate.

And Connor wonders if maybe he was more obvious than he’s thought the last couple of years. It’s a little unnerving. “Gimme that.” He hurries to pour himself a cup of beer, taking a quick gulp so he doesn’t have to add anything to this new line of conversation.

“Cool talk, bro!” Mitchell shouts after him as he flees with his beer and pizza.

Slater stops his forward motion, pulling him over to the wall with his serious face on. “Okay, but seriously, you good?”

“I’m fine! It’s just like, god, does everyone know?”

Slater’s smile is soft and a little bit crooked. “Probably not. But most people aren’t blind. So, we’re happy for you.”

Connor tries to be casual about it but his “Thanks, man,” comes out pretty bright. Slater laughs and slaps him on the shoulder, jostling his beer so it goes all over his hand. Connor takes another big sip to try and avoid anymore spills and follows Slater back to their lane.

Carter’s eyes are so fucking soft on him when they return. “What?”

“You just have a little beer foam, right here…” Carter brushes his thumb across the left side of Connor’s mustache.

“Oh, thanks,” Connor says, feeling his cheeks heat.

“No problem, gorgeous.”

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful. They have fun, laugh together, and get their asses schooled by Braydon the bowling shark.

And Connor is just. Happy.

Happy to be with Carter, with their friends, getting to show everyone that they’re together now.

It’s a little bit perfect.

They head back to Carter’s place. Connor strips down to his boxers and bounces up the bed while Carter is in the bathroom. He pulls out his phone and is scrolling through some pictures from the night. They’re all so amazing, grumpy Jake aside.

Connor is debating whether he should ask Jake about it when he feels eyes on him. He looks up to see Carter leaning on the wall. He’s pulled off everything but his shirt.

“What’re ya doin’?” Connor asks him.

He smiles. “Just appreciatin’ the view.”

“Well, you could be closer to it,” Connor says, holding out his arms  Carter snuggles up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on Connor’s stomach.

“You’re so soft and perfect here,” Carter says. “Like the world’s best pillow.”

Connor blushes hot and has a self deprecating remark on the tip of his tongue but Carter holds tighter to him and burrows in. He wonders if Carter can feel his embarrassment. 

Connor plays with his hair and runs a gentle hand along the line of Carter’s shoulders in hopes of distracting him.

“Hey,” he starts quietly, “Tell me something true.”

Carter sleepily mumbles, “Don't wanna give this up.”

Connor cocks his head in confusion. “Why would you have to?” he asks, but Carter is asleep.

It makes him smile, the way Carter’s face softens against him, how his whole body settles lax against the sheets. Connor traces the shell of his ear, brushes his hair behind it. He plants a kiss on the top of his head, barely a press of his lips amongst his messy fluff of hair. Carter hums and stretches his arm out over Connor’s hips.

If Connor could only stay one place for the rest of his life, this would top his list. Absolutely and without question.

Carter exhales, his lips popping open in a sigh.

Yeah, Connor’s never going to let him go.    


	13. Then - Carter

“I’m not going!” Carter yells. He balls his hands into fists, near tears. “I’m not leaving. No way.”

“Carter, _please_ ,” his mom shouts, not for the first time this argument. “It’ll be good for us to start over. A new house, new friends. A new life. This place is no good for us.”

Carter frowns. “It’s no good for _you_ , ma.”

“Baby.” Her body language changes, all the anger bleeding out of her stance. “I know you think your heart belongs here but, there’s a whole world out there with people in it. A heart can love more than once.”

Carter wants nothing to do with the rest of the world. “No.”

She sighs. “Give me a reason that isn’t a person.”

He chews on his lip, thinking about the summer job he’s got lined up at the Erne’s place, about Slater always needing help with the fence at his grandparents. He thinks about school and the three months left to go before break. His ball hockey team that’s going to the playoffs this year. “This is my home.”

“We can make a home somewhere else,” she says, coming around the couch to close the distance between them. “I promise.”

“I’ll be sixteen this summer.” He looks her in the eye for this, firm. “I’ll be able to work for real then. Make my own way. I can...I’ll find a place. I can do it.”

His ma cups his face in her hands. “I can’t leave you behind.”

“You’re not,” he says. “I’m choosin’ to. It’s different.”

She brushes her thumbs along his cheeks. “What if he never loves you back? He’s an Ingram, baby. He ain’t never gonna want a Verhaeghe.”

The whole world drops out from under his feet and it’s the first time tears threaten to fill his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Lord help me, you’re as stubborn as your daddy.” She huffs and throws herself down on the couch. “What kind of mother will I be? Leaving you in this town to fend for yourself?”

He comes around and sits with her. “I can do it.”

“I don’t…” She chews on her thumbnail. “I don’t want you living by yourself. You gotta find a room in a house, somewhere with nice people who’ll look out for you.”

“And if I do?”

“You do that and find yourself a job and I’ll let you stay. But Carter,” she says. “You stay in school. Don’t you dare drop out. Don’t start smoking. Don’t...you keep your nose down and work hard. People talk and I don’t want them talkin’ ‘bout you the way they talk about that Tyler Johnson boy.”

“I’ll be good, ma. I swear.”

She pulls his forehead to her lips, pressing a kiss there and then another. “Okay, baby. Okay.”

//

They’re at Pudge’s place, standing outside his ma’s car that’s packed to the brim with everything that’s important enough to bring with her into her new life. Clothes, albums full of Carter’s baby pictures, the few knick-knacks passed down from grandma.

Carter doesn’t have quite as much, just a suitcase full of clothes.

They sold off all the furniture and they hadn’t owned the house anyway, but his ma started a bank account for him, money for just in case he needs help making ends meet. He has the card and she let him choose the PIN (it’s Connor’s birthday but no one needs to know that).

Pudge is here, but his parents aren’t, and that almost makes this easier. It kind of feels like he just staying the night, like they’re just going to stay up too late and get sick on Yoohoos again. “Ma, I--”  

“No, baby, you don’t have to say anything, I know.” She pulls him into a hug, they stand there for a couple minutes.

She cups his face and says, “You can't complain about this, okay honey? You earn your keep and do good in school and keep your head up.”

“I will, Ma,” he promises. She kisses his forehead, tears in her eyes.

He waves until her car disappears from view. He closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before he turns to Pudge.

The silence feels like it stretches out forever, and then Pudge says, “I did always want a brother.”

“Lucky you, here I am,” Carter pulls all his emotions in, buries them deep down. He smiles brightly.

“You’re such an idiot,” Pudge says with a laugh, pats him on the shoulder. “C’mon, lemme show you your space..”

There isn’t much in the room over the garage but Carter dutifully unpacks his clothes into the small dresser and sets up the couple picture frames he brought on the nightstand.

Nothing about the room feels like home.

He lays back on the bed and scrolls through his phone until a notification pops up with Connor’s name on it.

_So when can I see your new digs?_

He debates his response, typing out and deleting a bunch of different versions. _Now?_

Connor sends back a string of thumbs-up emojis so Carter assumes he’s on his way. He gets up and smooths out the wrinkles in the sheet. He makes sure his pictures look nice and turns on the lamp. It’s a sunny day and he tucks the curtains out of the way so more light can get in.

He turns on the little TV and flips through the channels until he finds some baseball. It’s the Rangers and they stink, already down 5 runs in the middle of the 4th inning.

A soft knock draws his attention and he rushes to let Connor in. He’s got his hands full of soda and snacks and a little bag with tissue paper sticking out the top.

“What is all this?” Carter asks, taking the 2-liters from him so he doesn’t drop anything.

“Figured you hadn’t been shopping yet or whatever, so I got you all the essentials. Orange soda,” he says, pointing to it after dumping his haul on the scuffed dining table. “Popcorn, corn flakes, cosmic brownies, and a variety of ring pops.”

“No purple?” he asks, picking up a green one and ripping open the plastic.

“They were out,” Connor scoffs. “Lame, right?”

“Only for you, they’re gross.”

Connor shoves him. “Open your present.”

“Why did you get me a present?”

“Cause that’s what people do when their friends get a new place, right? So open it.”

Carter wants to argue that this isn’t his place. It’s the Erne’s. But he steps up to the little bag and pulls the tissue paper out. It’s a quilt, he thinks, but possibly for a baby? “Oh.”

“It’s a towel!” he says, grabbing it from Carter’s hands and tucking it into the stove handle. “Mama’s got me going to quilting club now and I totally suck at it but I made that. I wanted you to have it.”

The quilt towel is purple and baby blue with thick white piping around the edges. It’s pretty ugly and Carter loves it. “Thanks, Connor.”

He beams at Carter before grabbing the box of brownies and tearing into it. “We’re not watching baseball,” he says, flopping onto the bed.

“This is my house,” Carter says, snatching the remote from Connor’s hand. “And in this house, we watch baseball.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Okay, but you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on or I’ll fall asleep.”

“Making me put in work,” he mutters under his breath, smiling when Connor tosses an individually wrapped brownie at his head.


	14. Now - Connor

Connor drops his head onto his desk and groans. The work day has taken literally forever to pass and it’s still not even five o’clock yet. Steven didn’t have many patients scheduled today which just makes everything move slower. 

Connor checks the clock and is surprised the second hand is still ticking. 

The door opens then and a shortish, bulky man with a couple days of red beard growth walks in. His curls are filling in again. 

Connor unfortunately knows the entire battle over them too well. Both for and against. “Oh, hey Steve. What can I do you for?”

Steve rests his elbow on the counter in front of Connor’s desk. “Steven around still?”

“Yeah, I think he’s just twiddling his thumbs in the back. Organizing the meds or something.” 

“Thanks.” He taps the counter and heads through the door that leads to the exam rooms. He walks like he owns the place, which Connor guesses, isn’t half wrong. 

Dr. Stamkos pops his head out into the waiting room. “Hey, uh, Connor? Yeah, you can head out a few minutes early. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Will wonders never cease. “Thanks Dr. Stamkos. Have a good weekend!” 

“Oh he will!” Steve’s voice calls from behind him.

Connor would rather not think about what  _ that _ means. 

He climbs into Cece and starts her up absentmindedly, mentally planning all the different things he and Carter can do tonight when his phone rings. He glances at his dash, surprised to see Anna’s name on the screen.

He hits the button on his steering wheel. “‘Lo?”

“Hey, you’re out of work, right?” Anna asks.

“Yeah, Dr. Stamkos let me out a little early. What’s up?” He pauses. “Actually, how is St. Louis?”

“That’s why I’m calling. I wanted to tell you about it,” she replies, sounding giddy. “I’m all settled here. I got a job as a secretary at a magazine.”

“Which one?”

“You’ve never heard of it, it’s just pictures of room designs. The layouts, how to match rooms. Things like that.”

“Oh, sounds interesting,” Connor lies with a grimace, glad she can’t see him.    


“You are the worst liar,” she says through laughter.

“Yeah, sorry.” Connor shrugs, even though she can’t see it. “Tell me everything else, though. Do you like it there?”

“It took me a bit to get used to how big everything is, but, yeah, I do like it here.” She’s quiet for a second. “I met someone.” 

“Did you? Anna, that’s great!” And it is. She deserves better than what he gave to her over the past seven years. “Tell me about them.”

“His name is Robby. He hasn’t been here long either, just a little over a year. But, Connor, god. He’s perfect.” She sounds so happy. No, not that. Beyond happy. 

“You deserve someone perfect.” Connor smiles, turning on to Main. “Definitely someone better than me.”

“You weren’t all bad,” Anna quickly interjects. 

Connor laughs out loud. “Now who’s the bad liar? We both know that isn’t true.”

“No, you are a perfect gentleman,” she says. “And it isn’t like I’m totally innocent here. I could have left at any time, but I stuck around because your mama made me feel like family. You know she took me places all the time, always including me. Didn’t hurt that she bought me things, either. So I just ignored how you were with Carter.”

“When did I ever...?” Connor trails off. He thought that he’d worked pretty hard at hiding his feelings for Carter and it’s still a little embarrassing that he failed so spectacularly.

“Well, off the top of my head...there was this one time you were so close to him, holding his hand to your chest and you were looking at him just, so  _ softly _ , in that way that you’ve never looked at me, and I was certain you were about to kiss him...and all I did was walk away. Because your mama was going to take me shopping in Tulsa the next day.

“I...Anna, I never-” Connor stops, because he actually did, there at the end. He starts to open his mouth to correct himself, to apologize for the thing he never even told her about, but Anna is already talking again.

“No, I know. Carter was too sad all the time for you guys to have done anything.” He can hear her smile over the line when she adds, “but you guys totally are  _ now _ , right?”

Connor can feel his cheeks heat. “I, um, yeah, we’re...it’s good.”

“Good. That’s good for you guys. Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“No one!’ He scoffs. “I’m not saying it until he does. I don’t want to like, scare him off.”

Carter’s calling him now, his phone is beeping through at him and he glances at his dash sees Carter’s face smiling up at him “Hey, I got a call I gotta answer. You take care of yourself, okay?”

“What? Connor, wait! What do you mean you’re waiti--.”

“Sorry, I really gotta take this,” Connor says before clicking over. 


	15. Then - Connor

Connor’s fiddling with his phone, debating texting Carter to see if he’s done with his chores. He wants to go see Carter to the point that he’s antsy with it, bouncing on his bed.

“We need to have a talk, Connor,” Mama says without greeting when she walks into the room. Connor doesn’t look up at her because she’s being rude and he’s feeling a little reckless. “Connor. Now.”

He sighs and looks up at her. “What, Mama?”

“It’s about that Verhaeghe boy.”

“His name is Carter. You should know that by now, considerin’ he’s been my best friend since I was six.”

“It’s time that you stop hanging around with him,” she continues, like he didn’t say anything at all.

“Again, he’s my best friend.”

“Your best friend who is never going to amount to anything! Staying with the Ernes, doing odd jobs. What if he drags you down to his level?”

“Down to his...Hard work and making his own way?  _ That’s _ your objection to him?” Connor raises his eyebrows. “I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.” 

“Connor Brent Ingram. You best stop sassing me right this minute!”

“Or what? You’ll insult more of my friends?” This might get his truck taken away or him banned from playing video games, but he doesn’t care, because no one can talk about Carter like this.

“Back talk me one more time, and I’ll forbid you from seeing him ever again.”

“You can try, but what are you gonna do, Mama? Send me to the school over in Somewhere?” Connor scoffs. “Everyone in town knows how you feel about  _ that _ place.”

“I can see that Carter is sent there.” She smiles that way that always makes Connor feel a little ill. “I know Mrs. Vinik. All it would take is one little talk and, oops, there’s the district lines redrawn.”

“I’m a senior in high school, Mama, not an idiot.” He rolls his eyes. He can’t believe that she used her shitty ‘your ass is mine’ smile on something so lame.

“He isn’t good for you Connor, why can’t you see that?”

“You keep saying that but I don’t see any real reasons what that’s the case.” Even if Connor didn’t love Carter, there’s nothing that his mama has said that would make him stop talking to Carter. Nothing that would stop them from being friends.

“You can’t see him anymore, and that’s final.”

Connor stands. “I’m going to go spend the night at my friend’s house.”

“Don’t you dare go to that Carter Verhaeghe’s place, Con--” Her voice is shut out when he slams the front door behind him. He takes a little comfort in the sound of the screen door banging as he rushes down the steps.

He climbs straight into Cece, not caring that he didn’t grab any clothes. There’s probably some in the truck anyway. 

He drives straight to Carter’s, haphazardly scaling the rickety stairs when he arrives. Connor’s hoping that Carter is back for the night as he starts knocking.

He can’t believe that he didn’t even text Carter on the way over to make sure.

Carter pulls the door open. “Are you okay?”

“I--” Connor doesn’t get any further because Carter pulls him into a hug.

“It’s okay, whatever it is, it will be okay,” he says into Connor’s ear. Connor wraps his arms around Carter, feeling immediately like he’s home and belongs. Connor has no idea how much time passes as they stand there, but it doesn’t matter because this is perfect. 

This is where he’s meant to be, he knows it. 

“Did you eat?” Carter asks eventually.

“No, I didn’t actually,” Connor replies. “We can order something, though?”

“Nah, I have some stuff here.” 

Carter heats up some chili he has in Tupperware in his fridge, warms a hunk of cornbread in his little toaster oven. He splits the food into two bowls, placing half the cornbread on a small plate. 

“I know how much you hate when your bread touches your food,” he says with a small smile.

“Thanks,” Connor says quietly. 

He looks at his bowl. Carter hardly has enough for one, and he still gave half of it to Connor. How can his mama look at Carter and not see how good he is? “Can I spend the night?”

“Yeah, sure. Take the bed and I’ll sleep in the recliner.” Carter says, nodding at his maroon overstuffed chair that’s shoved in one corner.

“What, no, you can’t--”

“I have an extra blanket, it’s fine.”

“No, I mean.” Connor swallows. “We can share.” He looks down at his bowl, stirs the food around a bit. “If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Of course I don’t--”

“It’s been so long--”

“You first.” Carter’s smile returns, looking more beautiful than ever.

“I was just sayin’, it’s been so long since we had a sleepover, that’s all.” Connor makes himself smile. “Now you go.”

“There’s no way I would ever mind sharing anything with you.” Carter’s cheeks go red after he speaks. Connor wants to touch them, but just clears his throat.

“Did you make this?” He points at the chili.

“Yeah, it’s the only thing I know how to make.” He shrugs, always modest. “Luckily I can make it in big batches and have it for the next week or so.” Carter scrapes his bowl clean and pops the last bite in his mouth. “I’m going to hop in the shower, just put that in the sink when you’re done.”

Connor thinks he can do one better. 

He finds the little soap bottle under the sink and squirts some into his bowl as the water gets hot. He scrubs Carter’s, too, rinsing them both and setting them on the counter to dry. He wipes down the spoons and the little plates covered in cornbread crumbs. 

Connor wipes down the sink with the little dish rag before he pokes around in Carter’s drawers for a pair of sleep pants. Finding nothing but gym shorts that are too small and long underwear that is too warm, he makes the executive decision to just strip down to his boxers.    


The pipes groan as Carter turns off the water. 

“Hey, I did the dishes,” Connor says from the bed when Carter steps out of the bathroom.

“Yeah I know.” He finishes toweling off his hair. “The water got cold like, immediately.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” 

Carter waves off his apology. “Don’t worry about it.”

Connor does worry about it, hanging his head and tracing their matching Cs on the orange and blue quilt he wrapped up in.

“I’ll be sure to flush the toilet when you’re in there,” Carter jokes, dipping back into the bathroom to hang up his threadbare towel. “Just give it a second to clear up.”

“That’s fair.” Connor smiles, pats the bed. “You gotta keep the bed warm for me though.”

Carter shakes his head, smiling. “Yeah, alright.”

“Pick your side,” Connor says when he pauses by the door. He can hear Carter chuckling when he pulls the door closed.   
  
  


There’s a pair of sweatpants on the toilet when Connor pulls back the shower curtain, their high school’s name printed along one leg. The elastic at the bottom of them hasn’t been cut, so he knows they’re not a pair of his he’s left behind.

It feels illicit to put on Carter’s sweats. They’ve borrowed jackets and hats and a pair of gloves when it got cold but they’ve never shared actual clothes. To be fair, Connor’s clothes would’ve been too big on Carter. 

The sweats are a little tight around the thighs and hips but they’re soft and smell the way Carter always does. 

Connor hangs up his towel before opening the door to let all the steam escape. He finds Carter on the left side of the bed, curled up on his side and scrolling through his phone. 

“Do you wanna talk about it at all?” he asks as Connor gets settled.

“Nah, I just wanna lay here.” He hooks his pinky around Carter’s. “Being here with you is enough.”

Connor can just barely make out the smile on Carter’s lips. A real one, not like the one he wears around town. Connor knows that he could spend the rest of his life cataloging smiles and no other would ever come close to it. 

“I don’t like seeing you upset,” Carter says. 

“I’ll be fine in the morning. You don’t have to kick anyone’s ass, I swear.” 

“That’s no fun.” Carter reaches up and brushes at Connor’s hair, messing it up more than anything. “Y’need a haircut.”

Connor rolls his eyes. His mama’s been complaining about it ever since it grew past his ears. It’s almost to his shoulders now and he’s honestly just doing it to make her mad. “Shut up.” He huffs dramatically and rolls over, making sure to bounce the mattress as much as possible as he gets settled. 

Carter immediately tugs at the long strands. “Come back here.” His fingers slip through Connor’s hair, untangling it delicately. 

It’s a surefire way to get him to fall asleep, his eyes already feeling droopy. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“Practicing braids. Tony’s little sister was at Slater’s the other day and she was showing me how on True.”

“Did he pass out immediately? Cause if you keep going, I’m gonna be out.”

Carter’s laugh is soft and warm. He picks another bit of hair to untangle and braid. “I’ll take ‘em out when I’m done.”

“Okay.” Connor gives in and lets his eyes close, drifting off to the rhythm of Carter’s fingers.     
  
  
  


Connor’s tucked under Carter’s blanket when he wakes up in the morning, a note on the pillow that Carter had to go do his chores and that he has a job he’s doing later, so maybe they can catch up tomorrow. Oh, and there’s quick oats if Connor is hungry.

Reading the note makes him feel all warm and fuzzy.He sighs before quickly dressing in the shirt he wore yesterday. He folds the note carefully and puts it in the pocket of Carter’s sweats so he can take it home.

He frowns. Home. He doesn’t want to have another round with his mama, but he can’t stay here all day and avoid her.

Back home it is.   
  
  
  


“Connor, baby, I’m sorry,” Mama says the moment he walks through the door. It stops him short. Mama is not a pet name sort of person, so he’s already off balance.

“What do you mean?”

“I did some thinking after you left, and I get it. You think that Carter is it for you, right?” He opens his mouth but she’s already continuing, “Problem is, I’m afraid you aren’t it for him.”

“You can’t know that,” Connor replies, her words like a slap to the face. She’s wrong. He knows she is. Mama wasn’t there last night.

“Just hear me out, okay? I know how you can find out if he wants you, once and for all.”

“I’m listening…” He still doesn’t trust her acting like this, but there isn’t any yelling, so maybe it won’t be so bad.

“Ask Anna out on a date.”

“What? No.” Connor crosses his arms, shakes his head in refusal. 

“You should, and here’s why. If Carter really wants you the way that you think he does, there’s no way that he’d let you be with someone else, right?”

“I mean, I guess not.” Connor sits down on the couch across from Mama. “But wouldn’t it be better to just ask him?”

“Oh, gosh no.” She laughs, it’s light and nothing like the mean laugh he usually hears from her when she’s being nasty about members of the community. “Boys like that want to do a gesture. So, if he doesn’t, then you know there’s no special feelings.”

It sort of makes sense, in a way. But there’s still the issue of, “I don’t want to ask Anna out.”

“Why not? She’s pretty, and you know that she is nice. I’m sure she’d want to make you happy.” Mama moves over next to him, places a hand on his back. “And wouldn’t you want to be happy if Carter doesn’t want you?”

“He  _ does _ .” 

“Well, now you’ll know, then,” she says, handing Connor a slip of paper. It’s Anna’s number. “I’ll just leave you be, then.”

Connor looks at the paper, fiddling his phone in his hand while she heads to the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for him to decide that he’ll talk to Carter before he says anything to Anna. 

He heads upstairs. His phone needs to be charged before he can worry about any of it.


	16. Now - Carter

Carter's phone wakes him and he spends the whole time he’s scrambling for it wondering when he fell asleep.

His hand closes on the stupid noisy square and he answers blindly. “Hello?”

“Carter? It’s Mrs. Ingram, I was wondering if you’d have some time this afternoon to come around and have lunch. You like chicken salad, right? I just made up a batch and picked up some croissants from that new bakery over by Brodeur’s.”

Carter hates chicken salad. “I’m pretty busy today, Mrs. Ing--.”

“You haven’t been to our house proper in years, always sneaking into Connor’s place and I thought it might be nice for us to catch up.”

Carter absolutely knows this is a trap, but it’s a trap he’s going to have to walk straight into. He grits his teeth, exhales.“You’re right, ma’am. Haven’t been to the main house in a little while. What time were you thinking?”

“One o’clock should be perfect," she says. “I’ll see you then.”

Carter doesn’t get the chance to return the goodbye before she’s hung up. He checks the time. Connor’s at work and probably has no idea what his mama is up to. He’s going to have to go in blind.

Nothing good is going to come from this.  
  


The Ingram’s house is perched up on a hill, big wrap-around porch looking down on everybody who comes up the drive. He parks his truck by the garage and makes sure his hair looks presentable in the rear-view. It’s 12:58 and he considers waiting the two minutes.

But that’ll just prolong the inevitable. Whatever Mrs. Ingram wants, he’s just going to have to man up and take it. He rings the doorbell.

Mrs. Ingram is in a white dress covered in butterflies, her dyed blonde hair pinned up in curls. She smiles and Carter can see where she messed up her pink lipstick. “Right on time.”

He follows her through the entryway and into the kitchen, noticing the mountain of chicken salad immediately.

“Let’s sit,” she says, taking the plate and the box of croissants to the table.

Carter isn’t going to crack first. He’s going to sit in silence and wait, picking at the pastry on his plate until he’s almost shredded it all.

“So there’s a rumor going around,” Mrs. Ingram says. “About you and my son.”

That gets him to sit up a little straighter.

“I thought I had made myself very clear to Connor about how I felt about this relationship back after you all went to prom. But perhaps I should have focused my efforts on you from the very start.” Her neatly manicured nails look deadly against the smooth wood of the table. “I can solve your problems, Carter. I’m sure you know we’re not hurting for money and, for the sake of my son, I would spend any amount it would take to get you leave Nowhere and make a new home for yourself.”

Carter’s stomach curdles. He feels like he might throw up.

“What do you say we make a little deal and you get a fresh start, hm?”

“No.” He’s firm, unwavering. “Absolutely not.”

“Now listen,” she counters. “I know it seems like a lot but it’s for the best. You get financial security, something I know you’ve never had with that ridiculous tractor thing or all the odd jobs you take, and Connor gets hi--.”

“His what?” he snips. “What does he get out of this?”

“His reputation.”

Carter clenches his jaw. “Excuse me?”

“I’m trying to be the bigger person here,” she says. “By letting you go start a new life, away from this family. But I could just as easily have you thrown in jail, Carter. And there you’d rot, just like your deadbeat father.”

“We’re done here.” He pushes back from the table, not caring about leaving marks on the wood floor, and rushes for the door. He needs fresh air, needs to breathe. He needs a drink.

He needs Connor.

Carter jumps into Sierra, slamming the door. He false starts her twice in his panic about Mrs. Ingram coming after him before he manages to get her to turn over. He’s pretty sure that he tears up some of her prized flowers when he backs up haphazardly, and if he didn’t, he sure does when he lays on the gas so hard that he can hear the gravel pinging off Sierra’s bed as he fish-tales out and down the drive.

He goes to the general store, straight to the liquor aisle, stares at one of the small bottles of Jack. It costs too much at this size, sixteen bucks and not even a pint. Jesus, he needs to stop being so reckless with his money, but--

Why the fuck is he even thinking about this shit right now?

He grabs the bottle and heads to the front to pay.

Back in the comfort of his truck, he twists it open and drains almost a third of it right away,hissing at the burn of it.

He should have known it’d come to this, that he is so, so _worthless_ as a person to Mrs. Ingram that she’d try and pay him to leave Connor. Well, joke’s on her, because Carter promised Connor that he’d never leave. In more than one way.

It would have been _easier_ if he’d been able to leave years ago, if he could have left with his ma, if Connor hadn’t stolen his heart the first time he blinked up at Carter.

Why doesn’t his life ever get to be easy?

How is he ever going to move on once Connor does?

Fuck, he’s gotta get out of this parking lot, so he takes his time pulling out into traffic and taking the first right onto a narrow side street. There’s plenty of space to park Sierra so he picks a spot under a tree and hope he gets close enough to the curb.

He takes another sip of liquor, leans his chair back. He really needs to talk to Connor, but he’s got three hours to kill before he can.

One more sip and then he reaches behind him for an old, ratty snapback. He pulls it low over his eyes to block out the sun and counts sheep.

  


Carter wakes up to tapping and absolutely does not scream when he sees the little old lady scowling into his window.

“You can’t sleep here!” she shouts. “Get off my property.”

He knows he didn’t park on anybody’s lawn but his heart is beating too fast to argue with someone’s grandma. “I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll move along.”

“I’ll call the cops!” She’s still yelling, little fist raised in the air when he pulls away.

He isn’t ready to go home yet, doesn’t want to be alone all closed in. It’s well past 5 o’clock so he reaches for his phone, pausing when it lights up and his eyes fall on his lock screen. It’s him and Connor from the other night. Carter is looking into the camera, but Connor’s gaze is on him. He has this adorable smirk on his face and his eyes look so happy.

Carter wonders if he’s imagining it, or…

He keys his phone open, dials Connor’s number from memory as he pulls Sierra into a parking spot at the park.  

“Carter, hey, what’s up?”

“Hi,” he says, smiling into the phone. “Was just drivin’ around, thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Definitely.” He’s gets out and heads toward the playground, perfectly quiet at this time of night.

“Where are you?” Connor asks. “You want me to come pick you up? We can grab some dinner and watch a movie or something.”

God, help him, he actually wants to. “Pudge ‘nd Cory got dibs on the living room tonight.”

Connor laughs. “You can come to my place.”

Carter scoffs, kicks at a rock on the road. “Your mama hates me.”

“That doesn’t stop you literally any other day.”

The sentence hurts more than it normally would, he thinks, but the wound from Mrs. Ingram is still too fresh. He takes another swig, “Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“Nothing.” He sighs.

“Are you okay?”

He licks his lips. “Yeah, Connor. I’m good. Just gonna...I’ll be fine.”

“Cart--.”

He hangs up, flipping his phone to silent. A text from Connor flashes up on screen as he slips it in his pocket. He’ll tell him he was walking over by the creek where the phone service is real bad.

The park in the center of town is technically closed but he settles  on a swing, gently rocking himself back and forth. The squeak of the chains is loud in the silence.

He digs the toe of his shoe into the dirt, carving out a divot below the swing. He feels like an ass for hanging up on Connor like that but it’s probably for the best that he realizes Carter’s not a good boyfriend.

He’s not even a good placeholder.

Not good at anything.

Headlights draw his attention when they pull into the park. It’s probably just Jake doing a routine drive by. Carter stops swinging as the cruiser circles around. On the final turn, the headlights hit him.

He groans when Jake’s brake lights flash.

“Sorry, Officer Dotchin, I know that the park’s closed,” Carter says, standing as soon as Jake steps out of his cruiser. “I was just leaving.”

“This isn’t official business, Carter.”

“Oh. Well. What’s up, Dotch?” Carter grins at Jake, who isn’t amused. He hasn’t been amused by that joke since about third grade, to be fair.

“You need to.” Jake pauses and his lips go all thin, which is never a good sign. “You were ridiculous the other night at bowling, practically making a scene out of the fact that Connor was there with you and you need to stop. He’s a good person who deserves to be more than just another one of your conquests.”

“What the actual fuck, Jake?” Carter wonders how _this_ is the end he gets to this shitty day. He curls his hands into fists. He wants to hit Jake, maybe it’ll make him feel better.

But Jake’s a cop, and now he’s recalling Mrs. Ingram’s last threat, and he won’t give her the pleasure of that particular bit of gossip.

“I don’t even _have_ con--”

“Please. Everyone knows that you’re taking advantage of him because Anna dumped him. Which, I heard you had something to do with that too, but the point is that he deserves better than a rebound with the likes of you.”

“What do you even care about what Connor does and doesn’t deserve?” Carter can feel his eyes filling. He knows that he’s taking advantage of Connor, _knows_ that he shouldn’t be taking so much of something that isn’t his to have, but how can every single person in this fucking town think that he doesn’t even deserve a _glimpse_ of what it would be like to have Connor love him back? “You got your happy ending, right? Didn’t you?”

“Yanni doesn’t have anything to do with Connor,” Jake replies, shaking his head. “This is about you taking advantage of--”

“Well, some of us don’t get one those!” Carter cuts Jake off. He doesn’t want to hear those words again. “You thought you had it so hard, with no one here wanting to be with you, that you were always going to be alone. Instead, you just had to wait for the right person to come along and smile at you.

“Do you think that I don’t _know_ that Connor is going to have the same thing happen? That some perfect asshole from St. Louis just like Yanni is going to roll into town and take him? Not from me, because he isn’t mine, he’s never been _mine_ , but _fuck you_ for thinking you get any say in whether I hold on to him while I have the chance.”

Jake physically takes a step back, like Carter’s words pushed him. He studies Carter, who knows that he looks miserable and in love and brokenhearted, but he’s sick of keeping it all inside. He doesn’t even care anymore about complaining. His ma would understand.  

“Oh my god, you love him.” Jake’s eyes are wide. It’s sort of comical, but Carter isn’t really in the laughing mood right now.

“No shit,” Carter answers. He stomps away from Jake, over to one of the green park benches, throwing himself down on it.

Jake follows him over after a beat, sits down next to him. “How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters, because if you’ve only wanted him since he got hot, well, that’s bullshit, Carter.” Jake crosses his arms. It’s way more intimidating than Carter would ever admit, but his words make Carter’s tears turn angry, and he’s going to tell him right fucking now just how wrong he--  

“Oh, shit, Carter. I’m sorry.” Now Carter wants to ask Jake about his one-eighty, but he’s already speaking again, “You have to tell him how you feel.” Jake starts to reach for him, but lets his hand drop.

“And what would the point of that be?” Carter scrubs at his face, not even trying to hide the way he’s sniffling. There’s no way that Jake doesn’t know anyway.

Jake is quiet for so long that Carter is thinking he doesn’t have an answer, but he’s wrong.

“When I looked back on my first weekend with Yanni, it was when he was painting this bench that I thought he first flirted with me.” Jake knocks on the back of the bench, his eyes far away and filled with fondness. “I was wrong, he told me that he was trying as far back as the night that I was booking him and I was just oblivious.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Carter asks. Their origin story is cute, sure, but Carter isn’t really in the mood to rehash their happily ever after.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’re also being oblivious.” Jake doesn’t sound mean when he says it, and for half a second, despite everything that he’s gone through today, Carter feels a little kernel of hope bloom inside him.

But then he remembers the truth about Nowhere. “You’re forgetting something big here, Jakey.”

“What am I forgetting?” Jake does place a hand on Carter’s shoulder this time, gives him a little pat.

“That people from here don’t fall in love with other people from here.” Carter shakes his head. “Not anymore.”


	17. Then - Carter

Carter’s tucked into the corner of the couch, six chapters into his book when Pudge trips through the door with Cory. Pudge gets Cory up against the wall, blocking him completely from Carter’s view. There’s no mistake where this is going so Carter clears his throat quietly, halfway to standing so he can make a polite escape.

They startle, then look over at him. Their identical deer-in-headlights looks are amusing enough that he manages a small smile.

“Sorry, guys. I’ll just get out of your way.” He marks the place in his book with Connor’s card from the vet’s office and stands. Pudge is finally happy and Carter is so glad for him, but damn if it ain’t a reminder that he don’t need right now.

“No, we can--”

“I gotta feed the cows anyway. And still need to go take care of True.” He tips the brim of his ball cap at them, adding, “You two have a good night, now.”

He slides out the door before Pudge can offer anymore objections.  

“Dammit,” he mutters to himself while he trudges down to mix the feed for the cows. He’s had a good run here with Pudge, but it’s definitely looking like he’s gonna have to move soon. No couple wants a roommate.

There’s a thump over his head. He looks up at his old apartment, wondering what Bray could even be doing up there. It would be easy just to move back over the barn if they hadn’t rented the space out to Bray when he got home from school.

Carter dumps the food into the trough and checks the water before deciding to just go see True. He can worry about potential homelessness later.

 

 

Slater’s place is quiet when he pulls up the drive. He spots a fancy sports car parked under the carport with Missouri tags and sighs.

He can’t escape the inevitable, even here.

The barn is equally as quiet, most of the horses still roaming around the corral. It’ll be dinner time soon, though, and nothing’s quiet about that.

He gets to the middle stall, the one with a little blue tag on it, and is greeted with a nose. “Hey fella.” Carter runs a hand over True’s muzzle and along his cheek, offers him part of an alfalfa square as he slips into his stall. “D’ya think that Slater will let me stay out here with you?” Carter smiles when True butts at him. “Promise not to trample me in the night when I’m over in the corner wrapped up in a sleeping bag?”

True gives a little nicker in response, nosing him for more alfalfa.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he says, holding up the other half.

“Hello?”

Carter whips around at the unfamiliar voice, spooking True.

“Sorry,” he whispers with a pat, not taking his attention from the giant of a man walking towards them. It isn’t until he gets a little closer that Carter recognizes him as the owner of that fancy sports car.

“Oh, hey. You’re, um,” Carter grits his teeth. He’s seen this guy around town a couple of times with Slater, but they only really met at the bar that one time, and that was ages ago.

And Carter might have been drinking pretty heavily that night.

“I’m Braydon,” he says, rescuing Carter. He holds out his hand when he comes to a stop. “Carter, right?”

He’s offering Carter an out that he probably doesn’t deserve, but he’ll take it. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He plasters on a charming smile. “I’m just here to take care of True, I don’t know if Slater told you about him.”

“Yeah, it’s why I came out here, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Slater told me a while back that horses all have ridiculous Official Names, but he won’t tell me what True’s full name is. He said I have to ask you because ‘it ain’t his place’.”

Carter can actually hear the air quotes. It’s sort of amazing.

“Oh. Yeah. Um.” Carter looks at his horse for a second, stroking his mane absently, pondering if it’s something he should share.

And then he realizes that it doesn’t really matter. It’s public record, and anyway, it won’t mean anything to this almost-stranger.

“It’s _Tell Me Something True_.”

“Huh. That isn’t a bad name at all. It’s actually kind of nice.” He leans in, adds in a whisper, “It’s better than Nosey’s, but don’t tell her that.”

His confession startles a small laugh out of Carter. He reckons he likes this fella Slater found. He’s decent enough.

Braydon seems like the sort who wouldn’t have asked if he knew just how much saying True’s full name hurts Carter.

“And don’t worry,” He shifts his weight back to lean against the stall wall, tucks his thumbs into his belt loops. Puts on all the airs of an ‘aw, shucks’ cowboy. “Your secret’s safe with me.”


	18. Now - Connor

Connor leans back into Carter, relaxing against his chest. Carter’s arms wrap around him, thumbs hooked in Connor’s belt loops. Carter gives a little tug as he buries his face in Connor’s shoulder.

“Check you out, wearing jeans, lookin’ like this,” he mutters between pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to his neck, “We’ll make a cowboy outta you yet.”

It doesn’t make any sense that the statement jogs Connor’s memory about Anna, and yet. “Hey, Anna called me the other day.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carter sounds mostly-distracted, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t as well. “D’she find someone to send here for you yet?”

He sits up, frowns over his shoulder at Carter. “Why would you say something like that?!”

Carter sits there for a minute, picks at his fingers. He’s gotta be choosing his words carefully; the thought fills Connor with dread. “I know this is just...I mean. I’m not.” He huffs. “Someone is going to come along and sweep you off your feet, because that’s the way it goes here now, yeah? And, I know that you don’t lo--”

Carter’s voice breaks, but he takes a breath and keeps going, “I’m not your choice, I never have been, but I made peace with that already and anyway, getting a little bit of you is more than I ever even dared to hope for. I know that you could do this with someone better than the likes of me in the meantime.” Carter pushes a hesitant hand through Connor’s hair, runs a thumb across his cheekbone. “So, it's okay that it isn’t going to last forever.”

“Not your choice? Someone better?” Connor mutters to himself. He frowns, totally confused by what Carter is saying. “What do you mean, it won’t last forever?”

“Connor, please don’t make me...you _know_.”

“What do I know?” He huffs, then remembers what Anna said to him. “Why did Anna tell me that you’re always sad?”

Carter pulls away, crosses his arms, focuses his attention anywhere other than Connor. He doesn’t answer.

Suddenly it all clicks into place. “How long, Carter?”

Carter shakes his head, continues studying the wall to Connor’s left. “Carter. _How long_?”

Carter sighs, takes Connor by the hand and tugs him to his feet. He leads him up the stairs and into his room before dropping his hand. Carter goes straight into his closet, where he pulls a large shoe box down from the nearest shelf.

He hands it to Connor. “Go on, open it.”

Connor takes it over to Carter’s dresser, setting it down and pulling the top off in one motion. It’s filled with notes upon notes from high and even middle school. Math, English, Social studies, French and all the margins covered with doodles. Page after page filled with things like Connor’s name with hearts where the o should be, surrounded by hearts for good measure.

There’s even the occasional ‘Carter Ingram’ and ‘Connor Verhaeghe’.

The deeper he digs, the fewer school notes he finds. Instead, Connor finds pages and pages of unfinished letters all with the similar, painful theme. Carter starts to confess his feelings in each one, all of them ending in the middle of a sentence or a scratched out word.  

He eventually gets to a small pile of notes that start with things like ‘Connor, I know you love her, but’ and ‘What can I do to make you want me?’ And even ‘I wish I was good enough for you’ before being scribbled over or crumpled into a ball.

He pulls out a note that’s different from the others. It’s still folded up and there’s a heart drawn onto it, the pencil smeared and faded. He flicks his eyes up at Carter, who waves him on. Something about it tugs at his memory while he undoes the stupid complicated way they used to fold their notes in high school.There’s a letter addressed to him inside. About how Carter loves him and wants to be with him if Connor wants him and will he go to Homecoming with Carter? Can they please be boyfriends? They’d be amazing together, wouldn’t they?

And down at the bottom of the box, there’s a torn up piece of paper. When he pieces it together he reads, _Today I found out the love of my life will never love me back._ Connor gasps, dropping the bits, which flutter back into the box.

“My whole life, Connor,” Carter says quietly.

Connor looks between Carter and the box a couple of times at a loss.

And then he starts to feel sort of angry.

Angry that they could have been together this whole time. Also, he’s pissed at himself that he told Carter he wanted to ask Anna out rather than just saying how he feels. But mostly, he’s angry because, “You think that I don’t love you? That I’ve never loved you?”

“Connor, please,” Carter rolls his eyes. “You literally just spent seven years with Anna until she dumped you a month ago for kissing me when you were drunk.”

“She didn’t, I didn’t kiss you because I was-- You know what? How about the fact that you’ve fucked like everyone in town?!”

“Jesus, I haven’t fucked barely anyone!” Carter throws his arms out. “It fucking hurts that you even believe that bullshit, but you know what? Even if I had, what does it matter what I did while you were with someone else? I’ve loved you my whole entire life and you don’t love _me_ , so you don’t get to be the mad one here!”

“How the fuck can you even _think_ that?” Connor shouts at him.

“Connor, are you shitting me? My whole life has been a garbage deal! My dad leaving, my mom wanting to skip town and me staying here alone, skimping and pinching pennies, doing every stupid odd job I could find to make ends meet because I thought that…” Carter shakes his head, continues, “I only ever got a good deal one time in my whole life! Once! When I met you! I held those cards close to my heart over the years, thinking, ‘This is it. I finally have a winning hand’.”

Carter sags, looking defeated. “But I busted there, too, didn’t I? Since you walked up to me right when I was going to ask you out, told me a girl was pretty, that you wanted _her_ and not _me_.” He sighs. “That’s when I learned that the game is too high stakes for me. That I couldn’t even afford to play, because I was never, ever going to win.”

Connor’s anger bleeds away. “This isn’t a game. I wouldn’t...I would never.”

But he did. Without even trying, he played with Carter’s heart. It hurt when he thought that Carter didn’t like him, when Carter said “I just want you to be happy” instead of “No, don’t do that.”

Turns out it’s just another thing that he never should’ve listened to his mama about. Not _ever_.

It had sucked, but he was okay enough just glimpsing the occasional tan line when Carter’s pants dipped too low, with the touching himself and thinking about what it would be like if Carter wanted him. He’d thought it was better to have Carter as a friend than nothing at all. But it hasn’t been like that for Carter.   
Carter had been brave, was using his words, holding them there right in his hand. He was trying to tell Connor how he felt and it’s Connor who turned to him and he…

He broke Carter’s heart.

Connor reaches for Carter, his chest clenching when Carter shies away, but he knows that it’s his own fault. “I’m so sorry.”

Carter relents, lets Connor touch him and when Connor turns Carter’s face towards him, his eyes are red and watery.

“I’m sorry, Carter,” Connor repeats quietly.  
  
“No, it isn’t your fault that you don’t.” Carter sniffs, it’s endearing. “That I’m not _it_ for you.”   
  
“But you are it for me.”   
  
“What?” Carter blinks at him, his eyes blown wide with surprise, and Connor knows that he really has fucked this all up.   
  
“The reason I kissed you wasn’t because I was drinking.” Connor leans in, presses a gentle kiss to the swell of Carter’s cheek. “It was because seeing all of our friends find exactly what they needed for love made me realize that _I_ should go for who I really needed.”   
  
“What.” Carter repeats, his tone lacking the inflection that would make it a question and Connor knows that he should wrap this up.   
  
“The St Louis thing is nice for Slater, Pudge, and Jake…hell, even for Anna, but that isn’t for you an’ me.” Connor pulls Carter in, wraps him up in a hug, whispers in his ear, “Not everything is a coincidence, Carter.”     
  
Carter pulls back, starts to open his mouth, so Connor rushes out, “So it isn’t true, that you aren’t it for me, Carter. Of course you are. I’ve loved you my whole life, too.”

He grabs Carter by the cheeks and drags him into a kiss, parting his lips with his tongue almost immediately. Carter opens for him easily and Connor inhales through his nose as he deepens the kiss, brushing his thumbs just under Carter’s eyes. 

Carter leans back just an inch, blinking at him in wonder.

“I get why you think that I haven’t,” Connor starts. “And that’s my fault, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if I have to.”

“I thought–”

Connor cuts him off with another kiss. “I’m a fucking idiot, and that’s the whole story.”

“Okay,” Carter agrees.

“I love you.”

“So much.” Carter surges into Connor’s space, kissing him three times in quick succession. “Forever.”

Connor smiles against his lips. “Forever.”

Carter’s gaze flicks between Connor’s eyes and his lips, asking a silent question. And Connor, well, he’d deny him nothing.

“Yeah,” he says, slipping his hands under Carter’s shirt, pulling him close by the small of his back. “Whatever you want.”

Carter kisses him, walks him toward the bed along the far wall. They fall onto the mattress, rearranging arms and legs until Connor’s straddled over Carter’s hips. He’s got Carter’s shirt rucked up to his armpits, tanned skin all on display. He gently traces over his nipples, watching goosebumps spread out over his arms.

“What d’you want?”

Carter licks his lips. “Just...love me.”

Connor can do that.

He gets Carter’s shirt off and his jeans loose around his hips. He can tell Carter’s already hard even though they’ve barely gotten started, traces the shape of him through his boxers. Carter sighs, eyes fluttering closed as he arches into Connor’s touch.

“God, you’re perfect.”

Carter bites his lip and Connor won’t allow it. He pulls the lip from between Carter’s teeth with his thumb, tracing the curve of it.

“Let me hear you, love.”

Carter whines into the kiss Connor lays on him, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the sounds he makes. He slips his hands up the back of Connor’s shirt and they part just long enough for Carter to do away with it, starting a pile on the floor.  

“Turn over for me,” he says, sitting back so Carter can shift around. His back is a work of art, muscles bunching around his shoulders as he rests on his elbows. Connor traces the dip of his spine all the way to the edge of his tan line. “Lift up.”

Carter complies and his jeans end up on the floor, Connor rushing to get all of him on display. He palms his ass before striping him of his boxers and leaning over to the bedside table.

“Is this okay?” he asks, bottle of lube in his hands.

Carter nods into the pillow. “Yeah, please.”

He slicks his fingers up before circling Carter’s hole. Carter just barely tenses and Connor realizes something. “Have you...before?” he asks, hardly even a sentence.

“No,” Carter whispers. “No it’ll...it’ll just be you.”

Connor has to kiss him, has to stretch out over him so he can reach his lips and _kiss him._ “Are you sure...that you want it to be me?”

“What kind of question is that?”

And fuck, what kind of question _is_ that. “You’re right. Totally right. I’m gonna…”

“Please.”

Connor fits a finger inside him, pressing in slowly until Carter sighs. “Okay?”

“Yeah just, just hang on.”

He peppers kisses along Carter’s back, up along his neck, behind his ear. “Tell me when.”

It’s not long before Carter arches his back and leans into Connor’s finger, looks over his shoulder. “C’mon. More.”

Connor gives him another finger. It slips in easy, pressing deep and he curls them until he feels Carter shiver. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carter agrees.

Connor stretches him open, working another finger into him and feeling how tight he is. He watches the way Carter clings to him, how his body seems to fight against the stretch. He takes his time, opening him up until Carter’s pushing back against his fingers, trying to get him deeper.

He has a moment of panic about what to do next. “Do you want me to get a con--.”

“No, please. Just get in me.”

Connor has to take a few deep breaths, closing his eyes to block out the image of Carter spread out and begging for him. He gets more lube on his fingers to slick himself up and fits himself to where Carter is stretched and waiting for him.

God, he can’t believe it.

“I’m gonna…” He presses forward, the head of his dick popping in. It’s the most amazing thing he’s ever felt, so tight and slick and just for him. “Oh, fuck. You’re perfect.”

Carter whimpers into the pillow, clutches tight to the sheets as Connor bottoms out, hips flush to Carter’s ass. They stay like that until Connor can hear Carter’s breathing slow, until he relaxes his shoulders and some of the tension disappears from his back.

Connor tries to think about anything other than how Carter looks spread open for him, how easy it would be to rock his hips and finish this whole thing before it even got started.

No. No, he thinks about cows and mud and wasps in the summer. He thinks about cleaning out Mr. Langston’s dog’s anal glands and that time he was in the creek and stepped on something slimy.

“Connor…”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

Right, yeah. He fits his hands to the dip of Carter’s waist and slowly builds up a rhythm, watching for any signs of distress.

Instead, Carter gasps and moans and arches back into each thrust and snap of his hips. He reaches back to cling to Connor’s thigh, leaving fingertip-shaped bruises to look at in the mirror tomorrow. He’s deliciously loud and showy, Connor’s name always on the tip of his tongue.

Connor leans over, changing the angle of his thrusts. He wants to light Carter up, wants to make this the best he’s ever had, so he trails his palm down the flat of his stomach, ghosting over each delicious ridge of muscle. He follows the little trail of hair down to Carter’s dick, hanging heavy and needy between his legs. Connor wraps his fist around it.

Carter _sobs_.

“Are you okay?” Connor freezes.

“D-don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. It’s so good.”

Holy shit. Holy. Shit. Connor picks up the pace, careful to keep hitting that same spot inside of Carter. He wraps his hand tighter around Carter’s dick, lets the motion of their bodies work Carter up to the edge.

Connor’s never been one for talking but he can’t keep his mouth shut. “Are you gonna come for me? Gonna come with my name on your lips?”

Carter’s cheeks are wet with tears as he nods.

“God, I wish you could see yourself the way I do. You’d never want to look at anything else ever again.”  

Carter goes quiet when he comes, his whole body tensing up as Connor fucks him through it. It’s more than enough to pull him over the edge as well.

He moves to slip out, to get Carter on his side and start to clean him up but Carter groans, reaching out to hold him in place. “Just...wait,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Not yet.”

“Here,” Connor offers, tilting them both to the right until they fall onto their sides. He wraps his arm around Carter’s chest, holding him tight, and presses gentle kisses to the ridge of his shoulder and the knob of his spine. “More comfortable this way.”

Carter hums, pushing back into the cradle of Connor’s hips. “Just wanna feel you.”

“Okay, honey,” he says, tucking a kiss into Carter’s hair. “I’m right here.”

//

Connor wakes up warm, almost overheating. He’s got the covers shoved down to his waist but the sun is beaming in through the window and Carter’s arm is thrown over his hip. “Hi,” he says, memories of the night rushing back to him.

Carter smiles, just a lazy tilt of his lips. “Mornin’.”

Connor is never going to get sick of waking up next to him. He pushes the hair off Carter’s forehead, tucking some strands behind his ear. “How’re you?”

“I’m good.”

Connor’s stomach rumbles right on cue. “I’m hungry.”

Carter’s eyes seem to trace along the lines of Connor’s face, flicking from one place to another in quick succession. “I’ve, uh, I’ve probably got cereal. Maybe some pancake mix but, uh. I wanted to...there’s something else I need to say.”

“About what?” It’s not that Connor’s nervous but almost every hair on his body stands up, his whole body ready to panic at a moment’s notice.

“It’s, uh, before this happened. The other day your mama called me over to your house. She invited me for lunch.”

“Oh, no.” Connor knows his mama doesn’t do lunch, not unless she’s mad or gossiping.

“She...she tried to pay me to leave town. To leave you.”

Connor’s whole body revolts. He feels sick to his stomach and blindingly angry, absolutely heartbroken for Carter. Mad at himself for not being there to put his mama in her place. “How dare she. I don’t...I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything I just, I wanted you to know. That I would never. No amount of money could make me leave you.”

“Carter, no.” He pulls him to his chest, wraps his arms and legs around him. “I would never question that. Ever.”

“Okay,” he says into Connor’s chest. “Okay.”

Connor presses his lips to Carter’s forehead, buries his nose in Carter’s messy hair. “I love you,” he whispers. “And I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Carter holds Connor’s gaze as he says it. “I don’t blame you for what your mama says. She’s had it out for me since we were kids. I’m used to it.”

Connor knows it’s true and he knows exactly what he can do about it, when the time finally comes. He’s going to fix this.

His stomach growls again and Carter huffs out a laugh, pulling away from his embrace. “Let’s get you some breakfast, hm?”


	19. Then - Carter

Carter doesn’t wake up to Pudge banging on his door. Instead, his phone rapid fire pings at him at 6am. He squints at the screen, which says _bringing coffee_ , _and some muffins, wake up!_ The last one is a smiling sun. It softens Carter’s anger just a little.

That and the muffins.

He doesn’t turn on any lights, just feels his way to the bathroom and grabs for his toothbrush.

“Okay, so I’ve got a blueberry, chocolate chip, banana nut, and a pineapple bran,” Connor says, spreading out his baked goods on Carter’s table.

“More interested in the coffee.”

Connor hands him one of the to-go cups before pushing the blueberry muffin toward him. “You gotta eat something, we’ve got a big day!”

“We do?” He scrunches his face in confusion.

“Anna’s in Somewhere all weekend so I planned a day for us.”

Carter’s mouth is full of muffin when he smiles. “I’ve got some stuff around here to do before we c--.”

“You think I woke up before the sun for no reason? I’m here to help!” He indicates to an unfamiliar pair of boots by the door and the pair of work gloves he’s got hanging out of his back pocket.

Oh. This should be good.

 

 

 

Carter always starts with the cows and this morning is no different. “Mornin’ ladies,” he announces, throwing open the pen.

A few of the more curious ones mosey right on over to Connor who’s standing with a gloved hand outstretched like he would to a new dog. “Heya, girl.”

“That’s Belle,” he says as the cow nudges Connor’s hand looking for treats. “And the other nosy one is Clara.”

Carter shoos the few stragglers out of the pen and latches the gate behind them. “We gotta move ‘em to the other side of the barn so they mow the grass.”

Connor’s scratching Belle right between the eyes, pleased as punch. A few of the other cows are circling closer, interested in what Connor might offer them.

“Careful,” he warns. “Don’t let ‘em box you in.”

He giggles as a cow nudges him in the back. “I think they like me!”

Carter can relate.

So Connor parades the cows over to the other side of the barn like he’s the Disney farm princess and Carter mucks the barn out as quickly as possible.

“Lets see if you’re as good with chickens,” Carter says, wiping his brow with a smile.

Connor loves the chickens and asks to know each of their names, greeting them personally. “Well hey there, Lucy. Your feathers are lookin’ very nice this morning.”

It gets Carter smiling as he tosses a bag of feed over his shoulder.

Connor seems to choke on air when Carter drops the bag next to him and Lucy.

“Y’alright?” He gives him a pat between the shoulder blades.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Connor’s cheeks are a little pink when he looks up at Carter from his knees.

It’s kind of a pretty sight.

“Ow!” Connor shouts suddenly, holding his hand against his chest. “She pecked me!”

“She’s hungry.” He rips open the feed and spreads out a hefty pour. “Did she draw blood?”

Connor inspects his palm. “I don’t think so. It just hurt.”

“Lemme see.” He takes Connor’s hand, brushes his thumb over the red mark Lucy left. It’ll be gone by this afternoon, he’s sure. He traces the line on Connor’s palm that curves up toward his index finger. “You should be fine.”

“Okay.” Connor’s voice is soft as he takes his hand back from Carter, gets to his feet. “Um, is there anything else to do?”

And right, that moment is gone.

“Nah, let’s get cleaned up.”

Connor insists on driving them around town, first to the gym to get Carter’s hockey gear and then to the abandoned parking lot the guys have taken over to shoot around on.

“Hey, guys,” Ross calls out. “Dunno if we can play, we’re short a goalie.”

“I can do it,” Connor replies.

“Are you sure?” Carter asks, cocking his head. “Does getting the ball shot at your head sound like a good time you?”

“There’s worse things I could be doing,” Connor replies with a shrug. He waves at Tony, who’s holding the gear, glaring like it personally insulted his entire family. “Hey, gimmie those pads.”

 

 

And okay, it’s not that Carter doubted him, per say, but Connor’s _good_. He’s seriously so good that Carter’s glad to have him as his goalie. He gives up one goal between the two games they play. They easily win both.

Carter sort of wished that they’d had Connor for the playoffs back in high school.

“Ah, that’s just beginner’s luck,” Ross heckles while Connor pulls off the gear.

“Maybe.” Connor gins. Ugh, Carter loves the look on him. “Maybe not.”

“Play with us again next month,” Tony calls after them as they head for Cece.

“We’ll see!” Connor throws over his shoulder.

“Is it nap time now?” Carter whines, getting back into the passenger seat.

“Actually, there’s a matinee showing of the Wizard of Oz I thought we could see.”

“At the drive in?” They won’t be able to see anything at this time of day but he knows it’s one of Connor’s favorite movies.

“The dollar theatre, silly.”

“That place is still open?”

Connor laughs and heads back toward the center of town, cranking the radio. It’s a nice, cloudless day and Carter kind of wants Connor just to drive them around until they run out of gas. Windows down, music up. The simple life.

They’re one of the only trucks in the lot in front of the theater and have their pick of seats in the very back row. The seats are well worn and not real comfortable but Connor settles in the very center of the row and Carter follows suit.

He realizes very quickly that there is no armrest between these particular seats.

Carter silently begs for the rest of Connor’s plans to be less torturous.

“Hungry?” Connor asks when the credits roll and the lights come back on.

Their legs are still pressed together where they’d stretched out during the movie and Carter can barely think about anything else. “Yeah, sure.” He isn’t sure what he’s agreed to but it can’t be any worse than this.

“Kinda want a burger or something, what d’you think?”

Carter’s stomach growls. One blueberry muffin and a shared box of Junior Mints are hardly proper meals. “Uh, yeah. Sounds great.”

He hasn’t been back to Big Number 9 since he quit just after high school but the place looks just the same. He tells Connor as much as they’re being shown to a booth near the kitchen.

“I meant to ask why you left here,” Connor says, unrolling his silverware and tucking the paper napkin in his lap.

Carter hides his face with the menu he still mostly has memorized. “I, uh, I broke too many plates. Wasn’t cut out for it.”

“Order up!” the chef calls from the window.

Carter knows that voice and he slumps in the booth in hopes of avoiding eye contact with him. But it’s no use, Steve spots him right away as a server comes to pick up the food he just called. His eyes narrow, mouth sinking down into a frown.

Awesome.

“We might wanna make this quick,” he tells Connor.

“What, why?”

Steve rushes back into the kitchen and Carter’s shoulders relax. “Just somebody from when I worked here. I think he’s still mad I quit.”

“Hey!” a bubbly blonde says with a smile. “I’m Paige, I’ll be takin’ care of you today. Can I grab you some drinks?”

They order drinks and Connor asks for some deviled eggs.

“So, what’s the occasion?” Carter asks once Paige is gone. “For all this.”

“No occasion. I just never see you much anymore and we don’t spend nearly as much time together as we used to. I missed doin’ this stuff.”

Carter’s heart does a somersault. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, it’s been nice.”

“We’re still best friends,” Connor says, smiling. “And by shit, we’re going to hang out like best friends.”

“I don’t think the term is ‘by shit’.”

Paige comes back with Connor’s eggs and catches them doubled over in laughter. “Y’all want to order something else?”

Carter gets it together first and is able to ask for a burger and fries. Connor’s kind of hopeless so Carter just gets the same for him, without the tomatoes. “You’re a mess.”

Connor wipes at his eyes, still smiling. “I really do miss you. This. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in ages.”

“Yeah.” He grabs his water, stirs the ice around just to have something to do with his hands.

“Eat some of these.” Connor pushes the plate of eggs toward him. “Or I will literally eat half a dozen eggs in sixty seconds.”

It’s not long before their burgers come out with a frankly absurd amount of fries on the plate.

“Oh, I think these might be someone else’s?” Carter says. “We just got single orders of fries.”

“No that’s yours, baby. Compliments of the chef.”

Connor already has the ketchup and squirts a ridiculous amount all over his complimentary pile of fries. Carter glances at the kitchen and is pretty sure he sees Steve scurry away from the window, tickets flapping in the breeze he creates.

“Tell him thanks,” he says to Paige. 

“Are you boys on one check or two?” Paige asks, popping a ball of bright pink gum.

“Two.”

“One,” Connor says at the same time. “Just one is fine.”

She rips the page off her pad and sets it on the table. “I’ll take that whenever you’re ready, hon.”

“You don’t have t--.”

“My treat.” Connor tosses his credit card on the bill without looking at it. “You ready for the big finale after this?”

Carter doesn’t ever want the day to end.

 

 

 

They’re sprawled out in Connor’s living room, bellies full from the diner, playing one of the maybe two games that Carter's any good at.

“How are you winning right now?” Connor asks, clicking away on his controller.

“I’m good at this one.” Carter scores another goal and stretches his arms overhead in celebration.

“ _I’m_ good at this one.” He’s not pouting, but it’s close.

Carter leans over to grab a handful of popcorn and tosses a couple kernels at Connor’s sad face.

Connor turns as he throws another, catching it in his mouth. “Whatever, we’re playing again.”

Carter yawns, not for the first time, as Connor resets the game. They're both slumping down toward the middle of the couch, drifting until their shoulders are touching.

Connor's so warm.

Maybe Connor's decided he doesn’t care about losing this round either, because he tucks his head on Carter's shoulder. Their legs press together from hip to knee as they sprawl out a little further, a little closer. Carter can see Connor's eyelashes from this angle, fucking eyelashes everywhere. He can't help but bring his finger up to brush against them and Connor wrinkles his nose and pins Carter's hand to his chest.

They're close enough to breathe the same air when Connor says “Tell me something true.”

And Carter thinks he may not have a more perfect moment to tell Connor everything, to finally get those feelings out into the space between them. It’s been years of him holding them close to his chest in a stupid folded note with a heart scribbled on it. But Connor’s here. He’s here looking at him with those eyes that just…

There's a creak, so quiet Carter almost thinks he imagined it. Was that the door? No. It’s been windy lately. It was probably just a tree branch.

He waits, hoping to hear it again but Connor tugs at the deep v of his shirt, looking at him the way he sometimes does, like Carter's the only thing in the world.

Sometimes Carter wants to ask Connor about it, but he doesn’t think Connor even realizes that he does it. Or Carter’s projecting. It’s probably that, honestly, but right now he feels so happy and warm, almost content, with Connor this close to him.

“You’re falling asleep on me here, babe.” The endearment comes out of Carter’s mouth before he gives it permission and shit. He shouldn’t have said that and now Connor’s going to ask questions and he doesn’t know what he’s going to say and--

“Mmm, yeah,” Connor lays his head back down on Carter’s shoulder. “It’s cause you’re so comfy.”

“Stop being so ridiculous,” Carter mutters, even as his heart tries to beat out of his chest.

“Shan’t,” Connor whispers back right before his breathing evens out.

“Oh, Connor,” Carter says on a sigh.

He fights every urge he has to touch Connor, but he _does_ sit there and watch him sleep. Yeah, it’s a little longer than he should, but anyone that would blame him for that isn’t here. He shuts down the game they paused and reaches over Connor delicately to get the TV remote.

Carter slips out from under Connor just before it gets to being so late that he will hate himself in the morning if he stays any longer. He’s gotta help Pudge out in the west field all day.

He pads down the hall to Connor’s bedroom knowing the guy is notorious for leaving clothes and, well, everything else all over his bed.

Carter is lucky tonight, there’s only three shirts and Connor’s wallet sitting there waiting to be cleared. He makes quick work of them and shoves the covers down before returning to the living room.

“C’mon, sleepy. Budge up.” He tugs gently on Connor, who groans, but allows himself to be pulled to his feet. “Atta boy.”

Connor does walk himself, mostly, but Carter keeps a hand around his hip anyway. He tucks him under the covers and it isn’t long before Connor’s settled back into sleep.

“Hey, I wanted to tell ya,” Carter starts, sitting on the very edge of the bed. Connor isn’t awake, so it doesn’t matter if he says this, it _doesn’t_. “I heard ‘round town that people are saying that you’re hot now, that you’ve finally ‘done your glow up’ and I just wanted you to know that it isn’t true.” Carter sighs through his nose, forces himself to continue, “You’ve always been perfect.”

There. Done. Carter gives himself a little nod of affirmation before he gets up and heads back to the living room so he can put the popcorn bowl in the sink and slip out the front door.

He can walk home. It isn’t that far.


	20. Now - Carter

Carter needs this to be perfect. So much so that he’s been walking around everywhere looking for a dumb ring pop. Not just any ring pop, no. He needs to find _the_ ring pop. The only one that will work for this. He went to the general store over the weekend and convinced them to order a box, well, paid for them to order a box, but he found out today that was no good.

All the kids in the park are happily running about with candy colored lips now, but Carter is right where he started with his search since it turns out they don’t make grape flavored ring pops anymore.

Flopping down on a bench, he’s totally at wit’s end. He doesn’t know where else to look and time is running out. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.

His phone goes off, a text from Connor is waiting for him.

_Fancy seeing you here_

Carter looks up and around, but he doesn’t see him. His phone vibrates again, mocking him.

_Look to your left_

He does, and there’s Connor, sitting on the same bench where Carter talked to Jake less than a week ago. He makes his way across the plush grass, returns Connor’s smile when he arrives.

“Did’ja skin your knee? Need me to kiss it?”

“Man, shut the fuck up about that already,” Connor laughs, tossing a small crinkly package at him. “And you didn’t kiss it.”

Carter catches it, his eyes blow wide when he realizes what it is.

“Oh my god.” His chirp forgotten as he rips open the package. He holds the purple ring pop up to examine. It sort of glints in the sun, somehow, a sugary imitation of a precious stone. “Where did you even find one of these?”

“It’s been sitting in my top drawer since you gave it to me ages ago.” Connor bites his bottom lip. “But I thought you don’t like them much?”

Carter drops to a knee and takes Connor's hand. “You’re right; I hate them. But they’re your favorite. And you deserve the perfect ring.”

“Are...are you _proposing_ to me?”

“Aren’t I always?” Carter swallows, but his voice still wobbles a bit when he adds, “So, what do you say?”

“Holy shit, yes!” Connor pulls Carter up onto the bench and into a kiss. They linger in it a bit, nothing hurried about the moment at all.

Connor said yes.

He said _yes._

“The answer to this question has always been yes,” Connor whispers against Carter’s lips. He pulls Carter into a hug and his voice breaks when he adds in Carter’s ear, “Let’s go now.”

Carter pulls back, holds Connor at arm’s length. His eyes look glassy. “You’re serious? You wanna do it right now?”

“Haven’t we waited long enough?” Connor asks. And really, what argument could Carter have for that?

“Yeah, let’s...Sierra’s right over there, or.” Carter stops, looks around. “Where’s Cece?” His eyes go wide when he suddenly realizes, “Oh my god. All of your trucks have been named our initials. C and C. Cece. ”

“Took ya long enough,” Connor laughs. “Also, I walked here, so let’s take Sierra.” He takes one step, but stops short. “Actually, let’s go over to the jewelry store first.” Connor threads their fingers together and pulls him towards the little store across the street.

Mulligan’s Jewelers has been open in the smallest corner spot of the town square for the last seventeen years. Carter’s never been in there before, but it must be popular to last as long as it has in this weird little corner location. Connor drops his hand to open the door, walking right in like he owns the place, but Carter pauses.

He’d probably have to sell True to afford anything in this store. What is he...how can he…he just has to make it work.

He wants to marry Connor, so they need rings. Connor deserves that. Mulligan’s will probably have something silver. He can afford silver. It’ll be fine. He takes a deep breath and steps in.

“Babe, look at these.” Connor points at a set that’s already caught his attention. Carter steps up, ready to be dismayed by the cost.

“Ah, platinum, an excellent choice,” Tommy Mulligan says with a thousand-watt smile. “Would you like me to pull them out so you can see them?”

“Yes, please,” Connor replies.

“Connor, I don’t know that I can--”

Connor turns to him, silences him with a firm kiss. “You listen to me, Carter Verhaeghe,” Connor starts in a whisper. “There are so many things I owe you, things I will never be able to make up for. So let me do this for you.” He steals another kiss, this one more gentle. “For us. Okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

“And anyway, I’ll owe you a deposit for movin’ in, right?” Connor winks and turns back to Tommy. “We’ll take these.”

 

  
Carter’s surprised to see Jake look up at them when they step into the courthouse, rings in hand.

“Caley’s off today?” Connor asks.

“Yep, an’ sitting here is the worst, if you were wonderin’.” Jake sighs dramatically. “Wish I was at home. Anyways, sorry, what can I do ya for?”

“We’re here to get married,” Connor declares, displaying their rings proudly.

Holy shit. _Their. Rings_.

“Oh my god, really?” Jake stumbles when he scrambles out of the chair, looking to Carter for confirmation.

“Yeah,” he says, beaming.

“I’m so happy for you guys!” He hugs Carter and then Connor, slapping them both on the back. “This is awesome.”

“We’re glad you’re here since we’ll need a witness,” Connor says.

“I’m only one, though, you guys need two.” Jake tips his head towards the phone. “I can probably call Yanni.”

“No, I know exactly who it should be,” Carter says, reaching for his pocket. He shoots off a text and gets a reply right away. “Oh, wow. We lucked out, he’s already in town, he’ll be here in--”

Braydon walks through the door. Connor and Jake both raise their eyebrows in surprise at Carter. “What? We talk a lot when I’m there taking care of True. He’s a great guy.”

“Hey, thanks,” Braydon smiles, it’s soft and genuine. “For that, and for thinking of me.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Connor says suddenly.

“What?” Carter asks, Braydon and Jake echoing him.

“I wanna see how long it takes for the others to notice.” Connor grins. “My money is on Slater.”

“No way, it’ll totally be Pudge.” Carter shakes his head. Slater is a lot of things, but perceptive when he’s around Braydon is not one of ‘em.

“Okay, but can I tell Yanni?” Jake asks.

“Yes, you can tell Yanni,” Connor replies, “but don’t let _him_ tell anyone.”

“Of course he wouldn’t do that.” Jake pauses. “Let’s, uh, let’s get in there before Mrs. Vinik leaves for the day.”

“Right,” Carter says, letting Jake and Braydon go into Mrs. Vinik’s office first.

“Hey.” Connor grabs him before they can step through the door. “Tell me something true.”

Carter looks at him, probably longer and harder than he needs to, but it’s important that Connor knows just how important what he’s about to say is. “There is nothing I’ve wanted more in my entire life than this right here with you.”

“I love you,” Connor replies, his eyes have gone glassy again.

“I love you too. Forever and always.” Carter presses a light kiss to his lips. “Now, let’s do this.”

Nothing looks different when they step out of the court house. The earth didn’t shift, the sky is still blue, the grass is still green. The whole town looks exactly the same as he drives them to the bar but Carter feels like everything has changed.

The platinum ring is heavy on his finger, unable to be ignored.

“Hey, lemme get a look at you,” Connor says after Carter shuts off Sierra in front of Bar.

“Gotta make sure I’m presentable?” Carter turns to him with a small smile.

“You have got to know by now that I always find you presentable.” Connor slides across the bench, kisses him. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Verhaeghe?”

“I guess so,” Carter replies, feeling his face heat.

“You guess so....?” Connor circles his own face with one finger.

“I guess so, Connor?” He knows that isn’t the answer Connor’s looking for, but he can’t quite believe it yet.

It’s the most amazing thing that anyone’s ever done for him, and it’s overwhelming to think about, much less _say_.

“C’mon, we both know I’m yours, jus’ wanna hear you say it.” Connor leans close, whispers, “Isn’t that right?”

“Y-yeah, Mr. um, Mr. Verhaeghe.” Carter stutters out.

Connor is flushed with happiness when he pulls back. “I look forward to you calling me that for the rest of my life.” He grins easily. “Now, let’s go celebrate.”

Connor plays with Carter’s ring all the way across the parking lot and into the building. He doesn’t even stop when they step up to the bar.

“Hey, guys,” Bray greets them, with a hundred-watt smile and about seventy percent less beard than last time they were here. “What can I get for you?”

“I’d like a bottle of the best champagne in the place,” Connor says.

“Why?” Bray cocks his head at them.

Carter tries not to laugh because he looks decidedly canine.

“We just wanna drink something good,” Connor answers.

Bray looks dubious, but turns and heads into the back. “I’ll be right back, moneybags.”

“It’s going to be easy for them to all figure it out if you’re going to be this obvious the whole time,” Carter laughs, leaning into Connor for a kiss.

“Bet you no one notices,” Connor replies with a shrug.

Bray returns with a fancy bottle covered in French writing and two delicate flutes. He sets them down, pausing over the gold-foil covered cork. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, pour anyone in here a glass from that bottle until it runs out,” Connor says, placing his credit card down.

“A toast,” Connor grabs the two flutes once they’re full, shoves one into Carter’s hand. All their friends who are there, and then some, gather around. “You take one too, Bray. No, just take one sip,” he adds when Bray opens his mouth to object. “To things being perfect,” Connor says, his eyes lingering on Carter.

There’s a rumbling of agreement before everyone takes a sip.

“So, what’s the special occasion?” Slater asks.

“You tell us,” Connor replies as Carter takes another drink of his champagne, his ring flashing right next to Slater’s head.

“Fine, whatever, don’t tell me.” Slater gives him a tug. “Come play pool.”

“Okay, but just one game,” Connor relents.

“That shouldn’t take long,” Carter calls after them. Connor flails his hand over his head, Carter laughs.

“Wow, he really _is_ oblivious sometimes,” Braydon says. “Lemme buy you a beer.”

“Hey, thanks.” Carter smiles. Maybe he's smiling too much, but he doesn’t even care. Braydon flags Bray for two Bud Lights.

“Congrats.” Braydon clinks their bottles together.

“For _what_?” Bray demands from behind the bar.

“I think that Pudge is tryin’ta get your attention,” Carter answers, pointing with his left hand to where Pudge is waiting for a drink.

“I’m going to figure this out,” Bray says before he walks away. Carter and Braydon laugh as they turn to watch Slater and Connor at the pool table.

  
  
  


_Twelve days later_

 

“Holy shit, you’re wearing a wedding band!”

Carter laughs at the look on Pudge’s face as he stands in the open doorway. He’s breathing heavy, hand still gripped on the doorknob. “Babe,” he calls up the stairs. “I told you that Pudge would realize first. I win!”

“How is Slater gonna let me down like this?” Connor asks, coming to a stop at the landing. He laughs, hand on his cocked hip as he adds, “I can’t believe how long you assholes took to figure it out.”

“ _What_?” Pudge’s normally small eyes bulge so wide that they’re open as much as a normal person’s for once. “How long has it been?”

“Just since the other night at the bar.” Carter shrugs, tossing the book he was reading on the table.

“The oth-- The other night?” Pudge stutters out. “That was almost two weeks ago!”

“Too many people being distracted by coincidences, I guess,” Connor says with a shit-eating grin as he drops into the spot next to Carter on the couch. “By the way, since I have you both here, when can Cory ‘n me move in officially?”

Pudge just gawks while Carter laughs and pulls Connor into a kiss.


	21. Then - Connor

Connor is standing in front of Carter’s front door, staring at it as he bounces between feet. He needs to stop being an asshole and knock on the door. And he will here in a minute. It’s just, Carter hasn’t been living in the main house very long and starting up his tractor repair business is important. He has to get this right.

Connor takes a deep breath, sighing on the exhale, and knocks.

Carter pulls the door open, squints at him for a couple seconds. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“It’s lunchtime and I brought you something!” Connor gins, pulling a crumpled dollar out of his pocket. He goes to work flattening the dollar on the door frame, grimacing when it resists.

“A dirty ol’ dollar?” Carter raises an eyebrow at him when he holds it out.

Connor might not blame Carter for doubting him, but he can totally sell this. “It isn’t just any ol’ dollar!” Connor objects with all the indignance he can muster. “It’s your _first_ dollar!”

“My first...” Carter reaches for it. “That’s a thing?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” Connor’s smile returns. “It’s _a thing,_ even. _”_

“Oh, well, if it’s a _thing_ ,” Carter smirks, taking the bill.

“And that’s not all,” Connor says, feeling his blush want to creep in. He isn’t supposed to let his attraction to Carter’s stupid hot face and its dumb smirk show, and his ridiculous blushing mechanism is trying to give him away.

So, it could just not, and that would be lovely.

“No?”

“Nuh-uh.” Connor steps aside so Carter can can see where his truck is parked. “Thought you might need a first customer.” He throws up his hands like he’s presenting a new car, as opposed to revealing the broke ass tractor he towed over.

“Does that hunk of junk even work?” Carter asks, his eyes going wide.

“Nope. That’s why I brought it to you! So you can fix it for me.”

“Connor, thanks.” Carter’s eyes are a little too soft and Connor worries that he may be busted after all so he goes on the offensive.

“It’s just a shitty tractor that I need fixed,” he says, like he didn’t just spend half his lunch bartering for it at the local pawn. “Y’think you can manage that?”

Carter laughs. “Of course I can fix it.”

“Okay, good.” Connor picks up the bottle of champagne he set down before he started his nervous dance on the front porch. “I brought this to christen it.”

“Well, we best take care of this properly,” Carter says, grabbing the bottle and stomping down the steps. He looks over his shoulder at Connor. “You comin’, or?”

Connor shakes his head, but follows after him so they can break the bottle over the rust bucket he bought.

 

  
In the beginning, Connor goes over sometimes just to watch Carter work. Showing up unannounced hoping to catch Carter out in the garage. He’s usually shirtless those days, with his jeans riding low on his hips. Carter’s a god, all bronze skin and taut muscles. He’s perfect and Connor can’t help but want to watch him work.

They were supposed to play video games today but when Connor pulls into Carter’s driveway, he spots him immediately out by the garage. He’s already worked up a sweat, the sun making his shoulders and back glisten. Connor’s mouth goes a little dry as he kills the engine.

Carter wipes under his eyes, leaving a smear of grease on his skin. It’s unreasonably attractive, the dirt and grime making him look rugged. So attractive.

Connor’s going to stop watching him here in a minute. Really, he is.

“Hey, Ingy!” Carter waves.

_Play it cool, Ingram_. He hops out of Cece and waves back. “How’s it going, Verswaggy?”

Carter tucks his shop cloth into his back pocket, dropping the hood of the tractor he’d been working on. “I thought we axed that nickname.”

“It’s what you get for calling me _Ingy_.” Connor’s eyes betray him as they scan each ridge of Carter’s stomach. “Go get cleaned up, heathen. My video games miss you.”

//

 Business is booming, Carter tells him. He’s got two or three machines a week coming in for little tune ups. Connor’s so proud of him.

But it’s the middle of summer and Connor is bored, spread out on his couch and scrolling mindlessly through his phone. He could go over and get a glimpse of Carter with his hands dirty, bent over the hood of a tractor in a pair of well-fitting jeans…

There’s a knock at his door. He blinks at it, confused and trying to think of who could possibly be here. His mama and Anna are in Tulsa together, _again_ , so he knows that it isn’t them, and the only other person it might possibly be is--

“C’mon, Connor, open up!”

Connor scrambles up at the sound of Carter’s voice.

“Fixed your tractor!” he says by way of greeting when Connor throws the door open, presenting it the exact way that Connor did. He hopes he was half as cute when he did it.

“How’d you get it...where’s Sierra?”

“I had to make sure it ran right, didn’t I? Drove it over.” Carter grins. “I think I had traffic backed up at least half a mile.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, leans on the door frame. “Mrs. Robertson isn’t going to talk to me for at least a month.”

Connor can’t help but laugh. “You’re too much.”

“Well, I try.”

“So, how much do I owe you?” Connor reaches for his wallet.

“Psh, you paid me in advance.” Carter thumbs over his shoulder in the general direction of his house. “Already framed the dollar and hung it in the barn, even.”  

“That was just the--.” Connor stops, heaves a small, annoyed sigh. He knows how Carter is about things like this. “At least let me pay for the parts.”

“Fixed it with odds ‘n ends.” He offers Connor a little sheepish smile, scratches the back of his head. “Might need a ride home, though. Told Pudge I’d work on the fence over by the barn today.”

Connor’s quick to grab his keys off the little hook by the door. “I’m your man.”


	22. Now - Carter

Carter is out in one of Pudge’s fields. It’s near dusk, but he’s mending one of the far fences, trying to get done before it rains. He’s almost there, isn’t close enough, but that doesn’t really matter, because--

“Hey, you, maybe you should come inside before it rains?” Carter looks up at the sound of Connor’s voice.

“The weather people said it shouldn’t last long,” Carter huffs, turning back to his fence. “I can work through a little rain.”

“You’ve been workin’ all day,” Connor says. “It’s dinnertime and I’ve been planning a three course meal. Even a little dessert.” He wraps his arms around Carter from behind, pressing the little bottle of lube right to the center of his chest. “I know how you like it when I’m sweet.” 

Carter grabs the bottle and groans when he reads the label: strawberry flavored. “Connor…” 

He’s wearing his most innocent smile when Carter turns to face him. 

“Gosh, can’t take you anywhere, can we?” he jokes, slipping a hand around to Carter’s back pocket and tugging his spare rag free. He uses it to gently clean a smear of dirt off Carter’s cheek before tucking the rag back where he got it. Absolutely coping a feel.

“I’m supposed to get dirty,” Carter says with a smile. Two can play at this game. “This is a farm after all.” 

“Can’t come to the dinner table looking like that, though.” 

Carter fits his hands to Connor’s hips and pulls him close. “Don’t people always say it’s best to eat dessert first?” 

Connor opens his mouth, no doubt some other innuendo at the tip of his tongue, when the first drop of rain lands on his forehead. And then another. And a few more scattered throughout his hair and down his cheeks. 

He grabs Carter’s wrist and tugs. “C’mon, inside. We’re gonna get soaked.”

Carter digs his heels in, pulling Connor back toward him. “What if I told you I’ve dreamt of kissing you in the rain almost as long as I’ve dreamt of kissing you.”

His lips fall open so perfectly. 

Carter licks into Connor’s mouth, tasting the rain on his tongue. He slides his fingers up into Connor’s hair, already wet and dripping, and holds him close against his lips. 

“Fuck, Carter,” Connor gasps. 

Carter dives back in, biting at Connor’s bottom lip. He absolutely can’t get enough, starving for the sweet moans that slip from between Connor’s teeth. They’re drenched to the bone, the cold rain coming down harder and harder, and Carter picks at Connor’s shirt where it’s plastered to him. 

“Off,” he says, between kisses. “Everything, off.”

“What? We’re in publ--” Connor’s complaints are muffled momentarily by his wet shirt. “Anyone could  _ see us _ .”

Carter flips open Connor’s belt, roughly pulling it from his jeans. “Let them see.”

Connor surges forward, capturing Carter’s mouth as he tries to get Carter’s stretched-out black t-shirt over his head. “God, you’re such a farm boy.” He gasps when Carter gets his mouth on his neck, just behind his ear. 

“‘M  _ your  _ farm boy,” Carter says against Connor’s skin. He walks Connor backward as he unzips the fly of his jeans, letting them hang open until he’s pressed to the slat of the fence Carter just put together. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

Connor does, leaning his ass out just a bit in anticipation. Carter gets his fingers slick with the artificially sweet lube and slips Connor one quickly, sliding all the way in to the hilt. 

The rain is getting lighter by the time Carter has three fingers stretching Connor wide, love bites peppered all over his shoulders and back. “You think you can take me?” 

“Always,” he says, head bent over and resting on his arms folded along the top of the fence. 

Carter gets his boots off and digs his toes into the muddy grass. It’s difficult to get out of his jeans but he manages, kicking them over toward their pile of wet shirts. He strips Connor just the same before settling down against the last fence post he put in the ground.

Connor’s hair is long in some places and the weight of the water in it makes it fall across his forehead as he looks down at Carter. “How do you want me?”

Carter takes more lube on his fingers and slicks himself up. “On my lap, just like this.”

Connor folds to his knees, brackets Carter’s hips with them. Carter slips two of his fingers into Connor’s mouth. “How’s it taste?”

Connor licks them clean as Carter fits himself to where he’s wet and open. They breathe together when Connor slides down until he’s fully seated. 

“Perfect,” Carter grunts, muddy hands gripping at Connor’s hips. “So perfect, can’t believe you’re mine.”

Connor kisses him fiercely, fingers twisting up into Carter’s hair to tilt him into a perfect position. Carter gasps when Connor finds a rhythm, lifting and grinding and rocking their hips together. 

The slap of their skin is louder with the rain water splashing each time Connor’s ass meets Carter’s thighs. He’s got his head thrown back and Carter places a hand at the base of his neck, smearing mud on the skin there. “You’re so good like this.”

Connor reaches for the fence, grabbing it with both hands to get better leverage. He holds Carter’s gaze as he takes him apart with each flex of his hips. He’s stunning with his lips all bitten red, cheeks blotchy from the effort. Stunning with raindrops falling from the tip of his nose, hanging off his ears, getting caught in his eyelashes…

“Are you close?” Carter asks, getting his hands back on Connor’s hips. “Tell me you’re close.”

“Yeah. Yeah, touch me, please, c’mon.”

He finds the lube bottle by grace of god alone and squeezes it out onto his hand. The smell of fake strawberry is strong, the rain carrying it through the air. He wraps fingers around Connor and lets the motion of his hips guide him. 

He’s so thankful he gets to watch Connor fall apart in his arms for the rest of his life. 

With Carter seated fully inside, Connor throws his head back and shivers through his orgasm. Carter slams their lips together, hungry to get his own. Connor lets him, wrapping his arms around Carter’s neck as he moves him, tries to get deeper. 

Connor cries out, too sensitive, and clenches tight around him. It’s all Carter needs. 

With perfect cinematic timing, the rain begins to slow, barely more than a mist. They stay twisted up in each other until they can get their breathing under control, until their kisses are more like kisses and less like sharing oxygen. It’s possible Carter’s never had better sex in his life. 

“I  _ am _ such a farm boy.”

Connor laughs into his shoulder.


	23. Then - Connor

The rain finally stops and the sun has just enough time to dry the grass before it gets too dark. Fireflies are blinking all out in the yard and a little swarm of gnats cluster at the front porch light. Connor flops down by stairs, looking up at the sky. “I think we’ll be able to see ‘em,” he says. 

Carter joins him in the grass. “How d’you know so much about stars?”

Connor shrugs and wiggles closer to Carter. “How do you know so much about baseball?”

“I  _ watch  _ baseball.”

“Well, I read about stars. They’re cool!” 

Carter looks like he doesn't believe him, but he lets Connor ramble about all the different pictures the stars make: a big dog and a little dog, a big bear and a little bear, a big hunter and a--

“A little hunter?” he asks. 

“No!” Connor giggles. “A big bull! He’s fightin’ him with his sword!” 

“Why is he fighting a bull with a sword? Why doesn’t he just rope em? That don’t make no sense.”

“Orion’s not a cowboy,” Connor explains, very matter-of-factly.

“He should be. Then he could rope the bull and not have to worry about it.”

Connor giggles, rolling into Carter’s side. “Tell me something true,” he asks, propping his head on Carter’s chest.    


“Hm.” Carter looks like he’s thinking real hard, nibbling on his lip and scrunching his nose. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Connor smiles and brings his hand up into view, pinky raised in the air. “Pinky promise?”

“Tell me something true is  _ better  _ than pinky promise,” he says, linking their pinkies together anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it! Everyone lives happily ever after! Thanks so much for reading as always, all your little comments along the way have made us both smile :)) 
> 
> Wonder what the boys of Nowhere will get up to next...


End file.
